Worth Waiting For
by CityLites
Summary: Poe Dameron is the best and most reckless pilot in his squadron. Infamous for risky maneuvers, Poe's command of the air seems to defy the Force of nature. Rivalled only by his best friend, ace pilot Ben "Kylo" Solo, Poe excels in the cockpit because he's got nothing to lose—until he meets Rey Kenobi. A Damerey/Reylo WWII and Pearl Harbor-esque AU. (Rating may bump to M later).
1. You're My Best Friend

_Sunset, Louisiana - 1923_

Poe's chest felt tight, his breath coming in gasps, his dark, wavy hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. He was running on fumes, but as he cast a glance over his shoulder he saw that he still had a lead on Ben, so he pushed himself to keep running.

His bare feet propelled him forward easily through the plush grass of the field that sprawled out behind Ben's house. He'd tried to tell Ben that he could run faster without shoes, but the younger boy had insisted that his mom would whoop him if he took them off and they got lost or stolen. Ben's parents sure were strict sometimes.

Poe's victory was so close; he was just a few yards from the big magnolia tree with the tire swing hanging from it that served as their finish line. Ben's dad's new puppy, Chewie, was running next to him, yipping happily in the golden afternoon.

As he blew past the tree just a few feet ahead of Ben, he slowed his pace and threw himself down in the shade of the tree, panting with exertion but feeling very pleased with himself. He'd won—just like he always did.

Ben stood over him, breathing heavily and scowling darkly. When he'd caught his breath a little, he sat down next to Poe and huffed indignantly, crossing his arms over his chest, pouting. Poe would have felt guilty, if not for the fact that Ben _always_ acted like this when he beat him. He was just a sore loser that way.

They'd been racing to see who would get to sit in the driver's seat when they played war in Mr. Han's old biplane later. The race was just a formality, really, because Poe always won. He wasn't smug about it or anything; he was just faster than Ben, and he hit baseballs further and had an easier time making friends with the other kids at school, though Ben earned better marks on his work.

"Well, Ben," he said, sitting up and smiling proudly at his friend, "I won. I get to drive the plane while you shoot at the bad guys."

"Yeah, yeah. I'd be a better flyer, though," Ben insisted.

"Hm. Maybe one day you'll beat me and get to find out," Poe said with a smirk. "Think we've got time before your dad gets back?"

Ben shielded his eyes and looked thoughtfully toward the nearly-setting sun. "Yeah, probably."

"Neat. Let's go," Poe said, grabbing his friend by the hand and bounding toward the place where Mr. Han's biplane was parked out behind his house. Poe wasn't short for his age, but he also wasn't tall. It was an awkward climb into the plane, but he managed, watching enviously as the tall and lanky Ben had an easy time hoisting himself in. As Poe got situated, he noticed a pair of aviation goggles resting on the controls and put them on excitedly, turning around in his seat to show Ben.

"How do I look?" he asked, grinning.

"Hey! Those are for _my_ dad, so _I_ should be the one wearing them," Ben whined.

"Well that's not what I asked," Poe replied smugly.

"Fine," Ben relented with a sigh. "You look pretty cool."

"I know." Poe nodded triumphantly, turning around in his seat. "Okay, ready to take out some German scum?"

"You betcha," Ben replied from behind him, imitating the sound of gunfire and aiming all around them at imaginary enemies.

Poe ran his hands over the controls of the plane. "Watch out, I'm bringing us in close—take 'em out!" he shouted to Ben, leaning sideways in the plane as if he were guiding it through a tight turn in a high speed battle.

As the volume of their play increased, Chewie, already irritated to be left out of the action as he paced listlessly around the plane, suddenly started barking at the two. Startled, Poe's hand jerked, hitting buttons across the dashboard. To his horror, the plane's engine seemed to come to life with a whirring sound that gradually turned to a roar. The propellers starting spinning rapidly as the plane began taxiing forward through the field.

"What are you _doing_?" Ben asked in alarm. "Stop it! Stop it right now!"

"I-I don't know how!" Poe stammered, frantically pressing buttons and pulling back on the yoke steering in an attempt to stop the plane from accelerating. Instead, they only sped up, and Poe could feel the front end of the plane wanting to leave the ground, pointing upward and almost lifting the plane off of its wheels at intervals. As they increased speed even more, he saw the end of the swaying grasses of Ben's field and the beginning of dense forest at the end of his property getting closer and closer in front of them.

Luckily, Poe's dad had a plane, too. He'd also been in the war, and sometimes on weekends if he wasn't too busy on their own farm, he would let Poe sit in his lap in the cockpit and pretend to fly the plane. Poe was a quick learner and had paid attention to everything his dad had told him about the plane as his father guided his hands over the controls, chuckling as little Poe mispronounced the names of each button and lever. Clinging to the knowledge he'd gained from those precious moments, Poe took a leap of faith.

"Hang on!" he shouted to Ben over his shoulder, leaning back and pulling backward on the yoke, urging the plane to take flight. Slowly, the old plane complied, and Poe felt a rush of adrenaline as the wheels lifted fully and he and Ben were sailing through the air a few feet above the ground. He kept pulling on the yoke and the plane turned further upward just as they reach the tree line of the forest, barely clearing the canopy.

He let out a sigh of relief as he looked down at the trees they'd nearly hit before gazing in wonder at the warm afternoon sky above. Fluffy, white clouds beckoned, and below the ground rushed by in a blur of color in motion. "Poe, this is amazing!" Ben yelled.

"I know!" Poe replied, struggling to be heard over the roar of the wind and the plane's engine. He felt free and strong and proud of himself for piloting a plane on his own. He let out a victorious yell as he circled back toward Ben's farmhouse, now just a white speck below them.

"How are you going to land this thing?" Ben asked from over his shoulder, leaning forward in his seat nervously as he spoke.

"Beats me," Poe replied. "The same way we took off, I guess."

He began guiding the plane back down toward the ground gradually, circling the house as he went until they were flying pretty low. After lining the plane up with an open expanse of the field, he pushed the yoke forward ever so slightly and warned Ben to brace himself as the plane's wheels met the ground in a bouncy, jarring landing, jostling the boys about the cockpit. After the rough landing, he pulled back on the steering and tried a few more buttons, hoping to slow the plane down as it rolled quickly through the field. Finally, the plane came to a bumpy stop a few hundred feet from Ben's house.

Poe immediately stood up and turned excitedly to his friend. "I did it. I flew a plane. We _flew!_ "

"I know!" Ben said, climbing out of the plane and beaming back at him.

He pulled off the goggles and set them down on the seat before climbing out behind Ben, his body still trembling with adrenaline.

But the boys' joy was short-lived. As Poe bent over to pet Chewie, scratching the little retriever behind the ears, he noticed a familiar truck parked near the house where there hadn't been one just before. Mr. Han was home.

The screen door on the front entrance of Ben's house opened dramatically, banging against the wood siding of the outer wall with a loud thwack. Han came thundering down the porch steps toward the boys with fury in his eyes. Ben paled in fear and rushed to Poe's side, gulping nervously.

" _Ben!_ " Han thundered as he got to them, glaring down at his son. "What the hell were you _thinking_? Flying my plane?! You are a _child_ , you have no idea what you're doing! You could have destroyed the plane, or hit the damned farmhouse with it! And if you'd been hurt?! Do you have any idea how your mother would feel if you died from this foolishness? When the hell are you going to grow up, huh?"

Poe wanted to speak up and explain that he'd actually been the one in the driver's seat, but his mouth wouldn't seem to work. Ben surprised him when he spoke up and tried to defend himself.

"It was an accident. We were just playing and Poe pressed a button and—"

"DON'T you talk back to me!" Han growled. "And don't make excuses either. I doubt the idiot boy forced you to get into the plane. You let him do it and you chose to get in there with him yourself. And I don't know why I expect better. You have too much of your Uncle Luke in you, irresponsible fool that he is sometimes."

Poe was only a little surprised by Mr. Han's reaction. Han was usually a nice man, but some days he smelled like the beer Poe's own father would drink occasionally, and then he would get mean. Poe knew that Ben's mom had explained to Ben that Mr. Han had been in the war, and that it made him different. Poe wasn't sure how Mr. Han had been before, but when he was in a mood like the one he was in today, it wasn't good to cross him, and he and Ben had done a lot worse than cross him by flying his plane.

Poe tried to sneak a peek at his friend out of the corner of his eyes, and was surprised to see that Ben was crying. As Mr. Han continued to hurl insults at the little boy, Ben just stared at the ground, where Chewie was looking up at him innocently and whining. Tears ran out of Ben's dark eyes, and his hands were clenched into fists at his sides.

When Han took a breath and stopped his verbal assault, Ben took the opening and tried to storm off toward the house, but Han caught him by the arm as he walked by and raised a hand as if to hit him in the head.

Poe was shocked. While Mr. Han didn't actually go through with it, the gesture put him off. Poe's own parents hadn't spanked him since he was small, and even then they would never have hit him in front of others. Ben, looking utterly defeated, merely flinched, doing nothing to resist.

Poe's ears reddened in anger. He wanted to do something. To protect his friend and take his bully of a dad down a notch. He stepped up to Mr. Han, hoping he looked braver than he felt. "Leave him alone you . . . you dirty _German_!" he spat, using the worst insult his young mind could dredge up—and it worked.

Han deflated visibly, dropping Ben's arm and taking a step back, looking at Poe with his mouth open. "The Germans . . . You hear that, Ben? Your friend Poe thinks your old man's a 'dirty German.'" he said, giving an awkward bark of laughter that did nothing to hide the wounded tone of his speech. "I've seen the Germans," he went on, his voice breaking. "I've fought them in the trenches. In the mud and blood and rain. And I hope to God you'll never have to face something like that in your life."

Han's eyes moved from Poe and briefly rested on Ben before he shook his head and walked back to his house.

Ben looked over at Poe, wide-eyed. "You're my best friend," he said quietly. Poe gave him a small smile in lieu of a response as Ben turned and took off running after his father, Chewie bounding happily behind him.

* * *

 _Long Island, New York_ \- _1941_

"Don't overwork yourself now, Ben," Poe said teasingly, powering through another push-up as he turned to look at Ben, who was breaking out in a thin sheen of sweat as he tried to match his friend rep for rep.

It was shaping up to be a gorgeous day, the sun just starting to show its face over the horizon of Mitchel Airfield. The cool morning air, paired with the virtually cloudless sky, made their grueling morning workout almost pleasant.

"I told you, it's _Kylo_ ," Ben gritted out, sweat beginning to drip from his wild black hair. He wasn't sure where Ben had gotten this ridiculous nickname from. Poe thought he remembered his friend saying that it was from one of the books that Colonel Snoke had lent him, but he couldn't be sure. Regardless, he didn't like the name. It just emphasized the tension that had grown between Ben and his parents ever since he had followed in Poe's footsteps and volunteered to join the air force two years ago, one year ahead of the draft that had made service for men their age compulsory.

Han and Leia meant well. They were good and loving parents, even if Han had had gone through a dark time after his own stint in the military during the Great War. Ben was very intelligent and his parents had hoped he'd leave the farm and go to university; but, always competitive and hard-headed, he'd insisted on joining Poe when he'd enlisted to prove himself as a pilot.

He was certainly off to a good start. Ben was nearly as good as Poe, his quick reflexes and intense focus making him a gifted pilot. He could easily outfly the other top pilots in their squadron.

Poe, Ben, and their two best friends, Finn and Hux, were the pride of the 27th fighter squadron. The drills and maneuvers they ran were always flawless, and they worked together seamlessly as a team because each had something unique to offer the group.

Poe was open, charismatic, instantly likeable, and a natural leader. His confidence inspired the same in others, and his friends followed his lead without question. It didn't hurt that his flying was unlike anything anyone at Mitchel had ever seen before, and that when he flew he seemed to be one with his plane, the controls an extension of his person. But the best thing about Poe was that he didn't let any of it get to his head—he wasn't condescending or arrogant, and he cared deeply about his comrades.

Ben was quietly logical and passionate. His determination and unflinching dedication led him to nearly match Poe in skill and endurance, continually surprising their superiors. Ben's father had come home from war disillusioned and doubtful of the whole idea. As if to spite Han, Ben was patriotic and an enthusiastic supporter of the war. While he was cool and distant to most people and morose about his family's disapproval, he was fiercely loyal to Poe, who he looked up to and loved like a brother, despite being envious of his friend's skills and charisma. Ben was ordinarily quiet and reserved, but was often temperamental—perhaps the one thing keeping him from besting the easygoing Poe.

Finn was an orphan who'd enlisted when he came of age. His family had abandoned him as a child, presumably because they couldn't afford to take care of him. His childhood in an orphanage had been rough, but it had somehow only made him kinder and more grateful to have people in his life now. Despite his troubled past, Finn was the clown who kept smiles on all of their faces during the toughest moments and always had a word of encouragement. He was emotional and impulsive, but he was also strong and sure of himself, an intimidating force to be reckoned with in the cockpit.

While all of the boys, particularly Ben, were smart, Hux was the real brains behind their brilliance. His calculated, by-the-books approach, coupled with his singular intelligence, led him to mastermind some truly impressive maneuvers and formations. Despite his often uptight and sometimes snippy personality, he had a heart of gold and was a good sport when Poe incessantly teased him about his red hair and freckles. His usually stoic way of carrying himself transferred to a cool head under pressure when they were flying.

Their group had been affectionately dubbed the "Knights of Ren" at a party one evening the year before. A young and extremely intoxicated nurse of the same name was being felt up against her will by an antagonistic new recruit. Finn had witnessed it go down and methodically stood up from his seat, walked over to the couple in the dark corner, grabbed the offending recruit by the hair, and punched his lights out. As Finn had helped the crying woman cover up, the assaulter's friends got wind of the situation and had begun ganging up on Finn.

But before a punch could be thrown at him, Poe and Ben had materialized behind the brutes and started a full-on bar brawl. Hux, who had been having a rousing scientific discussion with a friend nearby had joined the fray when one of the recruit's friends had stumbled backward into him after being hit squarely in the jaw by Poe. The helpless man had elbowed the drink from Hux's hand and onto the floor where it shattered, covering Hux's usually pristine uniform in foamy beer. Without a word, Hux had joined joined the fight, tackling the stumbling man to the ground and punching him hard in the nose for good measure.

Moments later, the original offender and his belligerent friends were either laying on the ground, groaning, or limping out of the building as fast as their legs could carry them. The victimized nurse had moved over to a couch where she was being fussed over by her friends. Poe, Ben, Finn, and Hux, had walked over to her, dusting themselves off and catching their breath. The girl, still drunk, looked up at them all with a sleepy smile plastered across her pretty face. "Gee, boys," she had slurred, "you guys are like my knights in shining armor." Her friends had gazed, starry-eyed, at the foursome of pilots like they were superheroes. After that night, the guys had become inseparable friends.

But Ben had seemed a bit on edge of late, and while Poe didn't relish the idea of calling him Kylo, the others had agreed to do so when he'd asked, so Poe figured he'd have to follow suit. "Okay, _Kylo_ ," he said with emphasis as they stood up to finish their workout. "But I still got in the most pushups today." He grinned at Ben who just smirked in response and punched him gently in the arm.

"Whatever you say, Poe," he relented. "You ready to go?"

"Yeah. Let's meet up with Finn and Hux and head over," Poe returned, heading back to their barracks.

That day the whole base was scheduled to receive physicals at the hospital. Overseas, the war was heating up. Britain wasn't faring well against the aerial raids of the German blitz, and many suspected that America would come to the aid of their ally soon. Getting the preliminary physicals out of the way now would only serve to speed up the process of deployment if and when that happened.

Poe didn't really care for getting physicals. It took a long time with the number of soldiers currently on base, and he didn't like the assortment of needles he got poked with each time. Finn and Hux, he knew, would be excited about the errand. The hospital was staffed by a freshly-graduated group of young, female nurses, and the pilots were eager to meet them.

Poe and Ben approached the place where Finn and Hux were just finishing up their morning routine. "Gentleman," Hux said, nodding at the two and dabbing the sweat from his face and neck with a towel. "Ready to help out those fair ladies looking for their Knights?" he asked, grinning.

"Jesus, Hux," Finn said, shaking his head. "With jokes that awful, they won't give any of us the time of day. Luckily for me, they'll take one look at this ass and be hooked," he added, turning his back on his friends as if to give them a better view. "They'll be fighting for the chance to stick me."

"For God's sake, you two," Ben said seriously, "any woman in her right mind would sooner die than get anywhere near your sorry asses."

"Alright, alright," Poe interjected laughing. "Can you all act like adults and try not to get us thrown out of there today, please? Come on."

So Poe led the way to the hospital, Ben falling into step beside him. He was thinking to himself how silly his friends were for believing they could chat up a bunch of women who were just doing their jobs. Sure, the girls would probably be good-looking, and he'd had flings with his fair share of them when he'd first enlisted. But those days were behind him. He was focused on improving his flying and getting into fit fighting shape so that he'd be ready when they were sent to Europe. He wanted to make a difference; he didn't have time to think about flirting with pretty nurses.

But that was before he met Rey.

* * *

 **A/N: This is my first Star Wars fic and my first AU. Ever. Be gentle :P**


	2. Just to Talk to Her

Rey took a deep, steadying breath to calm her nerves as she checked her station for the hundredth time that morning. She was overseeing the vision tests for the pilots' physicals. It was her first day of real contact with actual patients. She had only finished her training a couple of months before, and while she wasn't the youngest nurse at the hospital at nineteen, she was close to it. It made her nervous.

As the soldiers lined up outside in their white tee shirts and shorts, dog tags catching the light from the summer sun, Rey didn't miss a beat. No, it wasn't the prospect of working on and talking to the men that flustered her. It was the practiced hands and years of experience she saw in women like head nurse, Jane Phasma, and the wizened doctor, Maz Kanata. Working alongside other women who were so much more skilled and mature sometimes gave her pause. Rey's troubled past led people to automatically assume that she would have a hard time. That she would fall behind. She was determined to prove them all wrong.

Her hands were steady, her stitches small and neat. She was able to stick even the most squeamish of her classmates quickly and painlessly when they practiced with needles. Rey was competitive and quick-witted and she was learning fast. But that didn't mean that the day's itinerary didn't put her on edge.

Rey's friend Jess Pava gave her a reassuring grin, her coal black hair in a shining braid and her smile bright and ready for the day. Rey returned Jess's smile uncertainly. She wasn't sure if she was ready for the transition from practicing procedures on her fellow students to working on the headstrong and expectant soldiers.

Rey looked up as the click of heels on the tile floor caught her attention. An imposing figure in a crisp, white uniform stepped up to her. "You're going to be fine," Jane told her confidently, a stern look overtaking her features as she towered above Rey. The tall blonde had a few years on Rey and they showed in her knowing blue eyes. "Just don't let any of them get too fresh with you."

Rey laughed uncomfortably. She doubted if that would be a problem. Her freckled cheeks and skinny legs had yet to lure the soldiers' eyes away from girls like Jess and her friend Natalie. Jess's severe, exotic features and alluring demeanor seemed to captivate the men, while Natalie's curvy hips and rouged lips always drew attention away from Rey's quiet ferocity. And that was just the way she liked it. She'd become a military nurse to make a difference, not to coerce a marriage proposal from a man in uniform.

Jane patted Rey on the shoulder before moving on to her own station as the doors swung open, letting in a bright sliver of sunlight and admitting the line of soldiers. The men immediately filled the room with the murmur of voices and the smell of grass, sweat, and aftershave.

Rey arranged her charts and instruments on her desk once more before sitting in her chair and smoothing her white apron over her knees, looking up to greet the first private with a smile. She jotted down his information and had him read the rows of letters behind her to test his eyesight, before giving him a stamp of approval to move forward. So far, so good, she thought, as she went through the motions with a few more men.

A couple of hours into her busy morning, Rey was greeted by a young man with rich, dark skin and brilliant white teeth. He stepped up to her desk, grinning broadly and extending his hand to her enthusiastically. Confused, Rey looked down at his hand before raising her eyes to meet his gaze. "I'm Finn," he announced proudly, continuing to beam at her with his hand held out.

"Er . . . read the second to last line for me, please," she said in response, ignoring his hand and looking determinedly down at her forms, remembering Jane's advice.

"All business I see," he said to her, unperturbed.

She looked up at him boldly, holding a straight face. "Yes," she responded simply. "Read the line."

Finn chuckled. "AFZJLRT," he read out in a clear, sure voice.

Rey nodded without looking up. She stamped Finn's chart and handed it off before his follower in line stepped up to her desk. She glanced vaguely at the young man that had taken Finn's place before beginning a new vision form. She hadn't really gotten a good look, focusing instead on getting her forms ready as quickly as possible. She was about to request the man's chart when he dropped it awkwardly on her desk, where it landed on top of the paperwork she was filling out. She cleared her throat nervously. "Second to last line, please," she said as she began jotting down information from the chart. But she was greeted with silence in response.

Unwilling to deal with antics like Finn's once again, Rey stood up, frustrated. She expected to see another smug smile, but was taken aback when saw the kind brown eyes of a dumbfounded pilot, his mouth ajar in embarrassment as he struggled for words. When he registered Rey's scrutiny, the broad-shouldered young man closed his mouth and swallowed uncomfortably. "Um, hi. Sorry," he said quickly, looking away as a blush stole over his face.

Rey regarded him curiously. Her first impression was that he was handsome. His dark hair was wavy and wild, although he'd attempted to smooth it over for the occasion. The rugged tan of his skin did little to hide the color that had risen to his cheeks. His white shirt was taut over his muscular chest, the bright fabric clashing with his lovely skin. His eyes, which had averted from her shyly, were framed by long, dark lashes, and she found herself longing vaguely for his gaze to turn toward her again. He was standing unnervingly close, his body almost grazing the front of her desk, which she realized suddenly that she was leaning over in his direction. He smelled faintly of sweat and cologne. He cleared his throat loudly, startling Rey from her reverie.

She shook her head slightly, straightening as she shuffled through his chart on her desk. "Um, Lieutenant Dameron, read the second to last line, please," she said quickly. She stepped back, waiting as the lieutenant looked over her shoulder, squinting at the letters.

"Uh . . .FA, no, sorry _AF . . ._ ZI . . . _no_ Z _J_ —"

Rey sighed. She hadn't been put in the position to turn someone away yet. Of course it would be the man who had flustered her so much. His shy and love-struck act had almost fooled her, but clearly it was just a ploy to get her to pass him even with subpar eyesight. "I'm sorry, lieutenant. All pilots must have at least 20/20 vision to progress forward."

She pressed her "not approved" stamp into an ink pad and readied it over the young man's chart, but his hand shot out and touched hers lightly.

Rey shivered in spite of herself at the brush of his skin. "No, don't," he protested in a low voice. "I can see, honest. I can shoot the top off a bottle a hundred yards away. It's just . . ."

"Alright, Poe," an irritated voice rose from behind the enigmatic Lieutenant Dameron. Rey looked up to see a tall, lanky boy with black hair hanging in his eyes, his pale face fixed in an annoyed grimace. "If you can see, just read the damned line so we can get a move on."

"You'll wait your turn," Rey snapped. "Lieutenant Dameron, you were saying?" she searched his face, surprised by her own eagerness to hear his explanation for why he'd fumbled so badly with the test.

For his part, the young man looked surprised by _her_ as well. He was smirking over his shoulder at his impatient friend, who was pouting after being shut up by Rey. He turned back to her then, his sideways grin making her heart flutter. "Please, call me Poe."

Rey ignored the request and pressed on. "You were saying before that your eyesight is just fine. If that's true, why did you have so much trouble reading the letters?"

"Well, you see," he began, shifting from one foot to the other, averting his eyes. "I was just nervous. That's all. I got nervous."

Rey scoffed. "You got nervous? About an eye exam? If nerves over something like this set you off, I don't see how you expect to fight the Germans thirty thousand feet in the air."

"Oh, the Germans? That's not going to be a problem. I'll be cool as a cucumber. Trust me, nothing's going to bother me once I get in the cockpit," he insisted.

"And why not?" Rey demanded. The boy behind him cleared his throat dramatically. She saw that there was a growing line of men gathering behind Poe who needed their eyes checked. But something about him held her attention.

"Because I doubt that the Germans are going to have anyone half as pretty as you to throw in my way, ma'am," he replied smoothly.

Rey blushed furiously in response. She tried to hide her smile as she looked away from Poe, stifling a giggle as the dark young man behind him sighed in exasperation and begged his friend to hurry up.

"So, miss . . . Hell, I don't even know your name," Poe mused. "You gonna pass me?" He flashed that grin at her again, a sort of careless, crooked smile that threatened to take her breath away.

Rey opened her mouth to respond, at a loss for words. She couldn't believe that on her first day she was already being taken in by the shallow flirting of one of the pilots. She felt like a walking stereotype. In any case, she couldn't pass him until he read out the lines correctly, but before she could answer, she was relieved to hear the chime of the bell that signaled a rotation. Twice a day the nurses would rotate to different stations to break up the monotony and ensure that they didn't get too lax or tired at any one task.

Jess walked up to Rey's station, flashing Poe with an intrigued smile. "He's cute," she whispered. Rey laughed nervously in response as she gathered her things to rotate to the next station.

"He's your problem now," she said to Jess. Rey turned away, determinedly avoiding Poe, and hurried into the press of the crowd, dodging around nurses and men as she wet. A quick glance at her schedule reminded her that she'd be doing immunizations next.

"Hey. _Hey_!" Rey stole a glance over her shoulder at the sound of the his voice, equal parts excited and annoyed to see that the dashing Poe Dameron was following her. "What's your name?" he called, pushing through the crowd as he caught up with her. His eyes were bright with anticipation as he looked at her expectantly.

Her heart was pounding. She wanted to tell him her name, to get to know the handsome, quirky young man. But she didn't want to get caught up in a relationship with a soldier, especially not one as alternately shy and pushy as he was. So she put on her best disinterested face, smiling politely at him. "Sorry," she began, her voice dripping with feigned sympathy. "I don't fraternize with flyboys."

Poe gasped dramatically, pretending to be gravely affronted. "Who said anything about fraternizing? I only want to know your name."

Rey looked away, increasing her pace as she stepped up to the immunization both, relieved to see that there was no line. Jane Phasma was nothing if not efficient. "Hi, Rey," Jane greeted her. "Let me get you situated here."

She stood up from the chair she'd been occupying in the immunization booth and gestured Rey over as she moved toward the array of needles and vials of medication. Rey cast a scathing look at Poe as she went to join Jane behind the counter. "Go away," she mouthed at him. But he was unshakeable.

"I'm just waiting my turn," he announced, crossing his arms casually over his chest.

Rey's ears reddened but she ignored him as she listened to Jane explain the contents of each container of medications.

". . . and that one is for smallpox," Jane finished, straightening up and turning to Rey. "Come and find me if you have any questions."

"Thank you," Rey said. "I'll be fine." She watched as Jane left without a glance at Poe, who marched up to her with a triumphant look in his eyes.

"So, your name is Rey," he announced.

"Congratulations on hearing better than you can see," Rey retorted dryly, turning her back to him as she filled a row of syringes with their corresponding vaccines in preparation.

"Hm. That's a lot of shots," Poe observed.

"What's wrong? You aren't _nervous_ again, are you?" Rey asked.

"Not a chance," he answered quickly.

"Who are you kidding?" a voice asked from behind Poe. "You hate needles."

Rey looked up to see the same, grumpy boy from before. He walked up to Poe and patted him on the shoulder in a mocking gesture of concern. "Don't worry," he said to his friend. "You'll survive. Probably."

"Alright," Rey said. "Do you two need inoculations or not?"

"We do," Poe replied, nodding.

"Okay, hand over your chart."

"Uh . . ." Poe hesitated for a moment before turning to his friend and snatching a chart from his hand. "Thanks for bringing my chart over for me, Kylo." He presented it to Rey, already opened to the page on contraindications and allergies.

"But—," Kylo started to respond as Poe elbowed him in the ribs, hard. Kylo closed his mouth, but scowled at Poe darkly.

Rey shook her head at their strange behavior before running her eyes over the page. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she gathered her syringes and waved Poe back behind the counter. He followed her into a curtained cubicle with a table for medical instruments and an exam bed. Rey laid her syringes out on the table and put on a pair of rubber gloves.

"Alone at last," Poe announced.

Rey ignored the comment. She was more than aware that she was alone with the handsome pilot. It made her uncomfortable even as it exhilarated her. "Step up to the exam bed and place both palms down on it with your back to me," she ordered with a tone the brooked no argument.

"Ma'am yes ma'am," Poe chuckled, following her instructions but peeking at her over his shoulder as she removed the cap covering the needle of the first syringe.

"Pull your trousers down a bit on your left side," she added.

"Jeez, Rey," Poe said as he strained to look around at her. "If you want me all you have to do is ask." She gave him a murderous look, and he obliged, removing one hand from the exam bed and tugging his shorts down a few inches on the back side.

She stepped up to him and rubbed his skin with a cotton ball soaked in disinfectant before grabbing his waistband and yanking it down further, exposing almost the entire left side of his butt to the cold hospital air.

Poe chuckled. "Getting a little feisty back there. At least take me out to dinner fir-Christ!" Rey jabbed him roughly with the first syringe.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she said innocently. "Did that sting?"

"Sting?! I think you hit _bone_ ," he exclaimed.

"Oops," she replied, shrugging as she turned away from him, selecting the next syringe from the tray. "You were saying?" she asked, struggling not to laugh at his pained expression.

Poe cleared his throat, struggling to regain his composure as much as he could with half of his bum out. "Well, uh . . . I was only half joking," he began, his tone serious. "Let me take you to dinner."

Rey hesitated as she readied the shot. She wanted to say yes. The irksome pilot had a killer smile, a sly sense of humor, and a maddeningly cute butt. But she wasn't ready to accept his invitation. "I don't think so," she replied.

"Aw, come on, Rey. Why no—FUCK!" She stuck him again, smirking as he clutched at the bed sheets to distract himself, trying to hide his reaction and act tough.

She discarded the used syringe and turned back to the tray to select another. "Come on, Lieutenant Dameron," she scolded. "It can't be THAT bad."

"It's _Poe_ ," he corrected her through clenched teeth. "And it's not . . . that bad . . . In fact, it . . ."

"'It' what?" Rey asked as she rummaged with her instruments. She turned to face Poe and then started in alarm. He had stood upright and was no longer facing the bed, but was looking at her, his expression dazed. He teetered back and forth precariously on his feet.

"Doesn't . . . hurt . . . at all," he slurred.

Rey stepped anxiously toward him. "Poe? Are you alright?" He smiled dimly at her in response.

Realization dawned on her and Rey rushed to the chart he'd given her, flipping frantically to the front page. "Benjamin Solo," was written on the name line. Cursing under her breath, Rey turned back to Poe, trying to keep her anger in check and figure out what to do next.

The curtain behind her hissed open suddenly, startling her. Rey turned to see Kylo, panting with exertion and brandishing Poe's real chart in front of him.

She snatched it out of his hands and thumbed through it, trying not to panic. Poe was stumbling about the tiny makeshift exam room, sweat running from his pores as his body trembled and swayed to and fro. Finally, she found the page she was looking for.

"You _idiot_!" she shrieked at him. "You've already had these shots today?!"

He giggled helplessly. "Just . . . the one . . . time."

Kylo stared at him as if he had just sprouted wings. "You let yourself get overdosed just to talk to _her_?" His eyes shifted to Rey with an expression of disbelief.

"Worth it," Poe managed in a weak voice, his eyes rolling back as he tipped forward and fell into her tray of instruments, his face meeting the steel table with a sickening crunch before he hit the floor.

* * *

Poe stared at his reflection and groaned in frustration. The bandage holding his broken nose in place wasn't exactly flattering, but at least it hid some of the black and purple bruises marring his face. He put his favorite aviator sunglasses back on to cover the dark circles under his eyes. He and the guys were spending the afternoon at Coney Island beach.

"Hurry it up in there, princess," Finn called. "You could spend the whole day in front of the mirror but that ugly mug isn't gonna get any prettier."

Poe smirked at his friend's jabs and exited the restroom, joining the others at the bar. Finn, Ben, and Hux already had drinks, so Poe stepped up to the barkeep and ordered a beer.

The four of them made their way outside onto the sunny beach. Poe inhaled the salty air and reveled in the heat of the sand on his bare feet. It was nice to be up and about. He had been bedridden for a couple of days after his fiasco in the hospital.

Miraculously, he had averted punishment for his behavior. Rey had apparently covered for him, claiming that there had been a clerical error on his chart leading to him getting a vaccine he was allergic to. She had lied for him, and a clever lie at that. She had also sat by his bedside faithfully until he had woken up. The first thing he'd seen upon opening his tired eyes had been her pretty face, pale with fatigue yet relieved at his return to consciousness. But then she had gone, leaving her friend Jess to look after him. Poe had thought about her constantly ever since.

The others, particularly Ben, were giving him a hard time about it. Poe was preoccupied with Rey to an extent that none of them had ever seen before. It wasn't like him to get nervous around a girl like he had when he'd first seen her, and it was even less like him to be unsuccessful in wooing a girl once he'd decided he was interested in her.

His dreams for the past few nights had been filled with her defiant eyes and the firm touch of her delicate hands. He had begged Jess to bring Rey over to talk to him, but the girl had refused, insisting Rey didn't want to see him.

Regardless, Poe took heart from Rey's shy smiles and unmistakable blush when they'd met, as well as from the fact that she'd lied to protect him. He could sense that whatever spark he'd felt upon meeting her, that Rey had felt it, too.

He walked over to the low fence beside the bar entrance where BB-8 waited for him faithfully. Poe had rescued the little dog in secret a year before, and while pets weren't allowed on base, BB-8, who Poe had named after the model of the first plane he'd ever flown, was so lovable and sweet that Ben's uncle, Lieutenant Colonel Luke Skywalker, had made a special exception just for him.

He untied BB-8 and then jogged to catch up with the others, who were scouting out a good spot on the beach. "We need a spot big enough to set up the umbrella," Hux reminded them.

"Don't worry, buddy," Finn said. "We know gingers melt in the sun."

Hux smirked good naturedly and Ben laughed, but Poe was distracted. His eyes combed the beachgoers, looking for a sheen of wavy brown hair.

As they found an empty patch of sand, Ben threw down a blanket while Hux erected the umbrella. Poe sat down and sipped at his beer, rummaging in his backpack for BB-8's ball. He fished it out and held it up for the little dog, who began jumping and barking excitedly. "Want the ball? Huh, BB-8?" He couldn't help but smile at him. BB-8 just had a way of putting everyone in a good mood. Poe chucked the ball toward the ocean and sat back as BB-8 bounded toward the water, splashing into the shallows. The little white terrier, whose coat was spotted with light brown patches, stood out vividly against the blue surf. He watched as BB-8 fetched the ball before returning to their spot, panting hard and dripping wet.

The other guys were talking about the nurses they'd met in the hospital on the day of Poe's incident. "The one who set your nose, black hair," Hux said, nodding to Poe. "She's gorgeous."

"Hm," Poe grunted noncommittally in response, wrenching the ball from BB-8's mouth and readying another throw.

"Oh, don't bother with him," Ben chimed in. "He's only got eyes for the one who caused his broken nose in the first place. What was her name again?"

"Rey," Poe replied quietly. He tilted the bottle back and finished his beer before throwing BB-8's ball again.

"Ah, speak of the devil . . ." Finn said, grinning.

Poe's head snapped up and he looked in the direction Finn indicated with a tilt of his drink. Sure enough, a tall, slender girl in a simple black swimsuit was walking at the water's edge, arm-in-arm with a shapely redhead in a deep blue, polka dotted two piece. "I-I . . . take back everything I said about gingers," Finn proclaimed to Hux, his mouth gaping as he stared at Rey's pretty friend.

But Poe had barely noticed the other girl. He was captivated by Rey. Her hair was loose from the bun she'd had it in at the hospital, and she was laughing loudly at something her friend had said, breaking away from her and splashing in the water. The droplets clung to her face and hair, sparkling in the dazzling sunlight. Something caught her attention and she waded purposefully toward it. Poe watched as Rey eagerly bent down to pat BB-8 on the head. The dog nuzzled her hand and then offered his ball.

Rey took it from him happily and then turned toward the beach, lobbing it with a strong motion. Poe's beer-addled brain had just enough time to register that the heavy ball was sailing toward him before it hit him square in the face, decimating his already-injured nose with a loud crack.

He collapsed on the blanket in agony, stinging tears coming into his eyes. He clutched his nose as it throbbed with sharp stabs of pain. Poe could feel the bandage on his face dampening as his nose bled afresh into it.

"Holy shit, are you okay man?" the distorted image of Finn's face swam into view as he bent over Poe.

"What the hell happened?" he heard Ben ask, confused. BB-8 bounded up to them, ignorant of his master's injury as he sniffed his ball before giving Poe's face a lick.

"That girl he's been ogling just broke his nose again," Hux observed calmly, taking another drink from his glass and watching impassively as Rey threw her hands to her face in shock at what she'd done.

Her friend looked from Rey to the guys under the umbrella curiously before starting toward them. Rey, reddening in embarrassment, followed her, her eyes to the ground. "Look sharp, Poe," Hux said. "Your girlfriend is coming over."

Poe tried to collect himself. He slowed his breathing and tried to blink the tears out of his eyes as he sat up shakily. Rey dropped to her knees in the sand beside Poe, her large brown eyes wide in shock. "I'm so sorry," she said, her voice breaking.

"I'm Natalie," the redhead said cheerily, sitting down on the blanket between Hux and Finn and extending a hand to the latter. Finn shook it slowly, swallowing nervously as Natalie's green eyes found his.

"Oh, uh . . . I'm Rey," Rey added, smiling shyly at the others.

"We know," Ben said in a bored voice.

"Ah, yes, Kylo. How could I forget?" There was a tense silence as Rey and Ben scowled at one another and Finn stared at Natalie as though trying to decide whether she was real or not.

"Why don't we give the nurse of the year some space to take care of her new regular patient?" Natalie suggested, getting to her feet and offering to help Finn to do the same.

"Sure," Hux assented. But Ben wasn't catching on.

"Why would they need more space?" he asked skeptically, looking at Natalie and then at Poe. Poe stared daggers at his friend, urging him to leave them alone.

When understanding dawned on him, Ben gave Poe an apologetic look before getting to his feet and following the others toward the water's edge.

"So, um, I'm really sorry about this," Rey said quietly when they were alone. "What are the odds?"

"Maybe it's fate," Poe offered, smiling despite the pain that accompanied the gesture.

"Hah. Maybe."

"Your friend took good care of me in the hospital this week," he went on. "But apparently she didn't deliver the message that I wanted to see you."

"I knew. I just thought I'd let you squirm a bit after you almost got us both in trouble."

"I don't regret it," he said, scooting closer to her. "I'd break my nose again right now if you'd let me take you on a date."

Rey laughed. "I think it's already been broken again, thanks to me."

"Where'd you learn to throw so poorly anyway?" he teased. "Your dad teach you that to keep the men away?"

She turned and gazed off toward the horizon for a moment. "I never knew my father," she said quietly.

"Oh, I . . . I didn't mean—"

"Nonsense," Rey stopped him, remembering herself suddenly. "It's not something that bothers me. Not really. And even if it did, you're the one with the real problems here," she said, trying to stifle a laugh as Poe turned to her, his nose swollen to enormous proportions.

"Na. A crooked nose is gonna add to my boyish charm."

"It won't heal crooked. Not if you let me set it for you. Come here." Rey gestured to her lap.

Poe's heart was pounding in his chest as he obliged, laying his head on her thighs, still damp from the ocean. She leaned down over him, her long, dark brown hair brushing his face as she squinted at his injury. He held his breath and forced himself to keep a straight face as she removed his sunglasses before carefully peeling the soaked and ruined bandage from his sensitive nose.

"Hold still," she instructed, her voice barely above a whisper as she quickly and expertly set his nose back in place. The pain was intense, bringing tears into his eyes unbidden, but he managed not to cry out or flinch away.

"I'm impressed," she said. "I know what that must have felt like."

Her work was done, his nose was set, but Rey didn't sit up, her face was still inches from his own. He could smell rum and citrus on her breath and the saltwater in her hair. She was close enough that he could even make out each of the freckles strewn over her nose. His eyes bored into her own caramel-colored gaze and Poe forgot how to breathe. She giggled at his dumbstruck expression. "You okay?" she asked.

"You are so beautiful, it hurts," Poe whispered.

Rey smirked at that. "It's your nose that hurts."

"No. I think it's my heart."

Rey blinked at him in silence, and Poe opened his mouth to explain that he knew that was about the worst line in the history of romance. But then she closed the distance between them and pressed her lips gently against his.

He responded immediately, reaching up and placing his hands on either side of her face. The heat of her lips on his, the feel of her long, lovely hair tangled in his fingers thrilled him. He opened his mouth to deepen the kiss and was elated when she did the same. She tasted fruity and sweet and somehow better than he ever could have imagined.

Poe forgot that they were outside, that the others were only steps away. There was only him and Rey, the sound of her sighing against his mouth, the soft, hesitant touch of her hand on his chest contrasted with her hungry, insistent kiss.

But they were interrupted by the small whine of BB-8, who was standing right behind Poe's head and staring at the two of them curiously. Rey pulled away abruptly, her nose bumping Poe's as she did.

"Oh, sorry," she said, smiling sheepishly. "Did that hurt?"

Poe smirked at her. "Yeah, it did. Payback time." He got to his feet and then bent over, easily lifting her small form and throwing her over his shoulder.

She giggled breathlessly. "Let me go," she begged, beating on his back playfully.

"Never," he replied, carrying Rey down to meet the others in the ocean.

* * *

 _ **A/N**_ **: Thank you so much to everyone who has provided feedback for this story so far. You guys keep me motivated! I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Reviews always welcome :)**

P.S. Fluff and happiness are going to be short-lived in this piece. You've been warned :P


	3. Flying

Work was dragging by at a snail's pace. Every time Rey looked at the clock, she would find with dismay that only a few minutes had passed since she last checked the time. The day's work was mind-numbingly boring and routine. The girls were sanitizing the medical tools and washing the bed linens.

Because it was peace time, there wasn't a lot of work for the nurses to do. This was a good thing, of course, but it also meant the hospital was often empty and that Rey got restless at work. She tried to make small talk with Jess, but she kept pressing Rey for details about Poe's friend, Kylo. Apparently Jess thought that tall, dark, and grumpy himself was something of an attractive mystery. For her part, Rey couldn't imagine why anyone would be interested in someone so sour, but even if she had agreed with Jess about Kylo's supposed attractive qualities, she didn't really know enough about him to satisfy her nosy friend. He was quiet most of the times that Rey had been around him over the past month, and when he did speak, he seemed to be conveying a distinct distaste for Rey. But it was precisely this morose and unexplainable behavior that seemed to intrigue Jess.

"He's just so . . . _tall_ ," Jess observed, bending down to tuck the sheets under the mattress of the bed she was making. She straightened up and turned to Rey thoughtfully. "You know?"

Just when Rey thought that she was about to snap from Jess's relentless questions, Phasma announced that they were finished for the day.

"Um, yeah. Very tall. It's astounding," Rey shouted quickly to Jess as she tidied up her station in a flash, gathering her things to leave.

"Yes, exactly," Jess replied, nodding. She started to say something else, but Rey was out the door before anyone could ask her where she was headed. She practically skipped down the stairs out in front of the hospital, stopping on the sidewalk at the bottom of the steps to look for him.

She raised her hand to shield her eyes from the afternoon sun as she scanned the grounds, her heart thumping excitedly in her chest. The base was not crowded that day, but the beautiful weather had many people spending their free time outdoors. Each time a soldier passed by she held her breath with anticipation, hoping it was him.

She was beginning to wonder if he was standing her up when she was startled by strong hands finding her shoulders from behind, running lightly down her arms and leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake before coming to rest on her hips. Sneaking up behind her had become a habit of his—and she absolutely loved it.

"Excuse me, ma'am," a familiar voice entreated her. "I'm looking for someone."

"Oh?" she asked, leaning back into his embrace and laying her hands over his.

"Yep. Maybe you can help me. She's about 5'5", hazel eyes, gorgeous smile."

Rey hummed and cocked her head to the side as if wracking her brain. "She sounds like a pretty spectacular lady."

"Yeah." Poe agreed, leaning down over her shoulder and pressing his lips to her cheek. "Even if she IS the world's most stubborn woman, with the goofiest laugh I've ever heard."

He barely contained a snort of amusement as Rey immediately tensed up in response to his words. She pulled away before whirling around to face him. "I am _not_ stubborn!" she insisted . . . stubbornly.

"Ah. Maybe not, but the girl I'm looking for sure is. And I'm absolutely crazy about her." He winked at her then, coaxing a relenting smile to her face as she stepped back into his waiting arms.

Rey looked up at him, resting her chin against his chest. "Where are you taking me today? It better be somewhere good after that rude greeting."

"Only the best," he assured her, stepping back and taking her hand. "But I guess I'll let you be the judge of that."

They set off through the grounds, waving hello to other personnel as they went. The afternoon sun was bright, but not blinding. The air was warm and she was comfortable and content, keeping pace with Poe and enjoying the simple pleasure of her hand in his.

Rey felt like a child on Christmas Eve waiting to see what he had in store for her. Every moment they had spent together over the last few weeks had been wonderful. Their "dates"—if one could call them that since they seldom left the base—were simple, but always fun. One day he had brought her back to Coney Island with Jess, Kylo, Finn, and Hux, riding the carnival rides and feasting on street food. But usually they just took walks around Mitchel Airfield or sat together at meals.

Conversation flowed freely between the two of them and he made her laugh constantly. They had an easy chemistry, and Rey would find herself staring at him sometimes, distracted by the way the breeze caught his hair, or how his eyes lit up when he talked about something that excited him. Just now she was gazing at the fine stubble of five o'clock shadow on his jaw, longing idly to kiss him, to feel the scratch of that stubble on her own skin.

She was woken from her daydreams when she noticed curiously that they had arrived at a hangar at the edge of the airfield. The vast, steel grey building was one Rey hadn't had occasion to visit before. The various hangars spread throughout the base were usually bustling with activity. Oddly, this one wasn't. "What are we doing here?" she inquired, turning to Poe warily.

"Skywalker is running drills with another squadron across the airfield and the aviation techs and custodial staff here are friends of mine," Poe explained as he led Rey through a side door and into the sprawling hangar. She still wasn't following.

"So?" she asked, trying to determine how the loyalty of a couple techs and janitors was relevant to their date.

"So," Poe began, beaming down at her, "you were pretty brave on those carnival rides last week. Let's see how you do up there." He turned to her excitedly, gesturing toward the ceiling.

Understanding dawned on Rey and her eyes widened in astonishment. "You're going to take me flying?" He nodded triumphantly, and she felt a wave of nervous anticipation sweep over her.

She had always wanted to fly. Ever since she was a child, she had wanted to take a ride in an airplane to be more like her grandfather, who she knew from stories had been a terrific flyer. He'd died before Rey as born, but her mind had embellished the idea of him as a heroic pilot, living adventures she longed to experience herself.

When she'd been hired on at Mitchel, she had watched in wide-eyed awe as the young men learned to fly, some running rudimentary drills while others, like Poe, putting on a veritable air show for her viewing pleasure. As a woman, being a fighter pilot wasn't exactly on her list of potential careers. But working at the airfield had given her the vicarious thrill of being near the action. She had secretly hoped that one day she would somehow wind up in one of the planes herself.

It made sense to her that the flirtatious and daring pilots would likely jump at the chance to bring the nurses up there to impress them, but it was against regulations. Rey never dreamed that Poe would be able to take her flying, but she was not opposed to bending the rules a bit if it meant sharing in his favorite activity. "Won't we get in trouble?" she whispered, though she didn't see anyone around to hear them.

Poe shrugged nonchalantly before turning his handsome, carefree grin her way. "Probably. You up for it?"

Rey hesitated for a fraction of a second before shaking her head ecstatically in agreement. "Absolutely."

"Terrific." He set off down the long walkway between the two rows of airplanes and she hurried to follow him, brimming with enthusiasm. They passed several planes, all of them sleek fighters that looked simultaneously deadly and enticing.

Toward the back of the building, Poe finally came to a stop next to a shiny, red and black fighter. He turned to Rey, patting the nose of the plane proudly. "Custom painted her myself," he boasted, and with good reason. She admired the sharp lines and gleaming finish of the plane. Near the tail, "Black Squadron" had been painstakingly painted in neat, even lettering.

"'Black Squadron,'" Rey read aloud. "That's the name of your group? I like it. It sounds . . . dangerous."

Poe laughed. "Oh, it is," he told her ominously. "Me, B-I mean _Kylo_ , Finn, Hux, and some of the other guys around here are all in it. The elite." If she didn't know him better she would have called him cocky. But Poe's confidence was actually one of his best qualities. He was so sure of himself that encouraging and helping others came naturally to him. Sure, he bragged about his flying every now and again. But he had the skill to back it up, and he was friendly and encouraging to all of his fellow pilots, gladly sharing his best tips and tricks.

None of that stopped Rey from giving him a hard time, just for fun. "Elite, huh?" she probed, raising an eyebrow at him inquiringly. "I think you'll have to prove it."

"With pleasure." He took a purposeful step toward her. Taking her by the hand, he pulled her close again. Rey sucked in a breath in surprise, taking in the heady scent of his aftershave and the brown leather jacket he always wore. "Flying's not the _only_ thing I'm exceptionally good at," he said huskily.

Her first instinct was to turn away in embarrassment. She could feel the blood rushing to her face. But she mustered her courage and looked up at him instead, her hazel brown eyes locking with his. She was hyper aware of his big hands on her shoulders, at the proximity of his body as she leaned in. "Well, you'll have to prove _that_ to me, too," she purred.

This time it was Poe who blushed, his mouth falling open slightly in surprise. Rey smiled sweetly and winked at him before shrugging away and moving to the side of the plane. "Come on, lieutenant," she urged, gesturing eagerly at the cockpit. "Show me what you've got."

He cleared his throat as if to shake himself out of his stupor before joining her near the plane. He opened the cockpit and then placed his hands on her waist to give her a boost in. "It's pretty small in here," Rey said uncertainly as she examined the cramped cockpit. "There's only one seat."

Poe hoisted himself up and got in behind her. There was hardly enough room for the two of them to even stand on the floor of the cockpit. "We'll just have to get a little cozy," he said, sitting down and then patting his lap for her to do the same.

"You've got to be kidding me," she said dubiously. "How are you going to fly with me in your _lap_?!"

He shrugged, unperturbed. "I'll just reach around you, and you'll need to be careful to keep your head to the side so I can see."

"Is that . . . safe?" She was still unconvinced. Rey was no coward, but she had nothing to prove. She wasn't willing to go down in a fiery plane crash in exchange for one fun ride with Poe.

"You're always safe with me," he replied earnestly.

Looking at the hopeful glow in his eyes she sighed in defeat and sat gingerly down on his lap. The position was more intimate than she had expected, her back pressed against his chest, his chin over her shoulder, and his arms wrapped around her so that he could reach the controls.

He began flipping switches and pressing buttons rapidly. Rey tried to follow his movements but there were too many dials and buttons for her to keep up with. He turned on the radio next, and with a static hiss she heard a familiar, surly voice, greet them: Kylo.

"Hey, Kylo," Poe said brightly. "You almost ready for us out there?"

"Yeah. Was just waiting to hear from you. I don't want to draw more unnecessary attention by having the doors open for a long time," he explained. Rey looked down toward an enormous garage-like door at the end of the hangar, the one through which planes could enter and exit. A thin beam of light suddenly shot through as Kylo began lifting the door for them.

"Thanks, buddy," Poe responded, reaching up to seal the cockpit shut with a click. With the flip of one, last switch, the radio static was drowned out as the plane came alive, the engine loud and powerful, causing the whole cockpit to vibrate. He gestured to the sort of seatbelt harness hanging above her to the right, and Rey helped him to strap it around both of them securely.

"You ready?" he yelled at her over the noise. She could practically hear the smile in his voice. Here was Poe in his element, doing what he loved most and did best.

"Yeah!" she responded gamely.

He guided the plane easily out of the row and down the wide aisle toward the exit. Rey's heart was pounding as they taxied past Kylo, who waved mildly in salutation. The plane began to accelerate and she gripped his thigh nervously as she saw the end of the runway rushing up to meet them. "Hang on," he told her, and she felt him lean back as the plane lifted.

Rey was surprised to find that her fears and nerves dissipated. As the plane ascended higher and higher, all she could see were fluffy white clouds against the orangey dusk sky. "It's so beautiful up here," she commented, gazing out the window in awe.

"Yeah," he agreed. "It is." But Poe's eyes were not on the sky. He looked fondly at Rey, her eyes alight with wonder.

"You doing okay?" he asked her.

"Of course," she replied. "But that's not an invitation for you to do anything . . . crazy."

"What? Me? Wouldn't _dream_ of it," he vowed. With that, Poe ducked to the side and shifted the yoke abruptly, turning the plane over in a complete spin.

Rey gasped as her world turned literally upside down, and above her she could only see the _ground_. But before she could begin to feel uncomfortable with the startling move, Poe expertly righted the plane, and her equilibrium returned.

"What do you think?" he asked in her ear. "Too crazy for you?"

She turned and looked up at him, laughing breathlessly. "No. I . . . I liked it!"

"That's my girl," Poe said, grinning proudly.

Rey gave a contented sigh as she relaxed against him, resting her head on his shoulder. They flew for a while longer in a comfortable silence. She noticed appreciatively how at ease Poe was in the driver's seat. The act of flying the plane—something she had always viewed as a difficult and impressive skill—seemed to be as simple to him as walking. She thought back to his comment earlier and realized that she agreed—she would _always_ be safe with him. He had this manly confidence that coupled nicely was his compassion and courage. It inspired faith in her. Poe was unlike anyone else she'd ever met.

Lost in thought, Rey admired the warm palette of the evening sky, surprised that it was almost nightfall. She felt Poe glance down at her. "Ready to go home?" She nodded against his shoulder in response and he turned the plane around in a wide, gentle arc, heading back for the base as the sun set slowly on the horizon.

As they approached the hangar, Poe cursed under his breath when the chair Kylo had set up outside the door controls was empty, Kylo himself nowhere in sight. "Kylo, come in," Poe hailed his friend over the radio. But he heard only silence in return. Rey sat up groggily and peered down at the seemingly empty hangar as they circled it, Poe lining the plane up with the well-lit landing strip.

She felt the briefest moment of anxiety as he guided the plane in for a landing, but the tires touched down without incident and he gradually decelerated until they came to a smooth stop at the edge of the strip. He snapped the cockpit open and they both stood up, Poe exiting first and then reaching up to lift Rey out.

She could have managed the small drop from the cockpit to the ground herself, but she wasn't complaining. His arms, firm and muscled as they were, felt right as they wrapped around her. He set her down carefully on the asphalt before him, but didn't immediately let her go. They were only inches apart, and Rey tilted her face up to his to find his dark eyes resting on her, his expression tender. She closed her eyes as he leaned down and kissed her softly, hugging her closer to him all the time.

Her head swam with pleasure at the feel of him holding her so tightly. Poe, with his sexy smile and self-assured swagger; Poe, who looked effortlessly handsome with his day-old stubble and beat up leather jacket. Poe, who knew just the right things to say to her, just the right way to touch her and make her weak in the knees. Sometimes she had to pinch herself to be certain that it was real, that he wanted _her_ , that she was the one who got to be with him this way. She stood on the tips of her toes as she kissed him back eagerly, wrapping her arms around his neck

His hands travelled lower and she felt her breath catch as he grasped her butt. The sweet, hesitant tone of his kiss changed as he lifted her off the ground, backing up into the wall of the hangar behind him. She wrapped her legs around his waist and flattened the palm of her hand against the wall to brace herself. A longing sound escaped her lips as his tongue found its way into her mouth.

When Poe pulled back for a moment, their eyes met, his gaze dark and needful. Rey sighed as he leaned down again and began pressing kisses down her neck, leaving a hot trail to her collarbone. She tilted her head back, getting caught up in the passion of the moment, when she heard footsteps tapping on the sidewalk leading up to the hangar.

Her eyes snapped open and she saw to her horror that one of the soldiers on guard duty had a flashlight trained on the two of them, a guilty-looking Kylo in tow. "Lieutenant _Dameron_?" the guard asked, shocked to see the golden boy of Mitchel Airfield locked in such a compromising position. "What are you _doing_ here?"

Rey's face was burning with embarrassment as she unwrapped her legs and Poe lowered her to the ground. He reached down and helped her to pull her skirt back into place before smoothing his own hair out of his eyes and clearing his throat loudly. "Um, sorry, Private Lyons, we were just, uh . . ."

But before Poe could think of a good enough excuse, the young soldier had turned his flashlight to Poe's plane, conspicuously parked on the strip nearby and _not_ in the hangar as it should be. His mouth dropped open. "Did you just fly this thing . . . with her?!"

Poe didn't answer immediately. Instead he turned to Kylo, looking betrayed. "You were supposed to be our lookout and radio me if anyone came sniffing around here," he said. Rey should have been appalled that he'd just said something so incriminating in front of Private Lyons. But then she remembered it was Poe she was dealing with. He didn't exactly play by everyone else's rules.

"I'm sorry. It was so quiet out here. I . . . fell asleep." Kylo actually looked apologetic. She knew he was one of Poe's closest friends, but he was usually snippier when she was around him. It was obvious that Kylo wasn't exactly her biggest fan. Maybe he was jealous of all the time Poe was spending with her, or worried that she would distract Poe from being a good pilot. She wasn't sure. But just now he appeared to be genuinely sorry for having ruined a night that was important to Poe.

"Oh, don't worry, the _both_ of you will be on Skywalker's shit list for this stunt," Lyons said, looking angrily over at Kylo. "Well, Lieutenant Dameron, what do you have to say for yourself?" he asked, stepping toward Poe.

Rey glanced at Poe, who was standing next to her now, his hand resting protectively on the small of her back. "Hmm," he said, shrugging. "Worth it."

"What?" Lyons asked, flabbergasted by Poe's apparent lack of remorse or concern. Before he could say more, Poe reached for Rey's hand and took off running down the path around the back of the hangar. She stumbled after him at first before catching her stride and following, giggling at the insanity of it all.

Lyons made chase at first, but as they continued to broaden the distance between them, eventually ducking behind a storage building into the shadows, he gave up and walked away, cursing to himself at being unable to apprehend them. Rey figured, too, that Kylo would be long gone from the hangar by now. It would be Lyons' word against theirs.

"See?" Poe said, nudging her in the side with an elbow as he struggled to catch his breath. "You're safe with me."

Rey laughed, shaking her head at the reckless, perplexing, man before her. She was absolutely smitten.

* * *

"So . . . did you have a good time?" Poe asked. He was walking Rey back to the house she shared with her roommate, Natalie.

"Are you serious? The _best_ time," she assured him, reaching over and pulling one of his hands from his pockets to hold it.

"Good." The silence behind his statement was heavy. Rey sensed that he wanted to say something else.

"What is it?" she asked, trying to see his face better in the growing dark.

"It's nothing. I just . . . You were so great tonight, you know? You're so _brave_ and strong. But that doesn't make you rough, because you're kind to everyone; you're gentle . . . and beautiful. Sometimes I feel like this is too good to be true." She gazed at him quietly, unsure of how to respond. "It's like I could try my whole life and never be good enough to deserve you."

She snorted. "You, deserve _me_? Poe, I feel the same way every day," she said quietly, unable to look his way as she felt a shy lump rise in her throat. " _You're_ the one who's too good."

They arrived outside her place, a modest two-bedroom cottage. The streetlamp illuminated them in a hazy yellow glow. "Alright. It's settled," he said, grinning. "We're both just too good. And you should know that I'm very competitive. It's not every day I admit that someone else is better than me."

Rey smirked at him as she climbed the first step up to her front door. "If you have a flaw, Poe, it's modesty," she remarked over her shoulder. He laughed, reaching up to catch her by the arm before she climbed up further. He spun her around and placed a chaste kiss on her lips before stepping back.

"Can I see you tomorrow after drills?"

Rey couldn't play coy. She couldn't pretend she was too busy for him, or that she didn't want to see him every day. She couldn't keep herself from smiling widely at him as she nodded her assent.

"Excellent. 'Night, Rey."

"Good night, Poe."

Rey stepped through the front door and closed it as quietly as she could so as not to wake Natalie. She locked the door before leaning back against it and letting out a tremendous sigh.

She wasn't sure how, but she just knew he was going to stir up trouble for her. He'd come bursting into her life like the first blaze of morning sunlight through an un-curtained window. In a little over a month's time he'd already left an indelible mark on her innocent, young heart. She might be inexperienced in love, but she knew enough to know that men like Poe didn't arrive or depart quietly. Losing him might have destroyed her. But as she reflected on the weeks of bliss and romance that were hers to cherish, she felt Poe's own words push their way into her thoughts. Whatever might happen, what they shared was worth it.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ **So one of my favorite damerey fic authors recently said that this ship is dead. Do you guys feel the same, or should I continue this?**

 **I'd like to, because I have big plans for this story. They might wreck your soul, but what good fic doesn't?**

 **What do you think so far, and what would you like to see?**

 **Have a great weekend :P**


	4. Pure Intentions

Ben's performance was impressive that day. Poe smiled to himself as his friend fired off a volley of shots at the ground targets that were set up in the open expanse of the training area before executing a perfect, on the dime turn at Skywalker's instruction. Ben doubled back and flew smoothly over his original starting mark, whooping excitedly when he discovered that he'd done his run in record time. He had also managed to hit every target without marring up the ground around them. It was clean shooting and even better flying.

"Nicely done," Poe commended him over the comms.

"Thanks," Ben replied. "Let's see you follow _that_ flying."

"Is that a challenge? Kylo, you should know better by now," Poe chuckled.

"Play nice you two," Hux fussed over the radio.

"Ah, lighten up," Finn chimed in. "I bet the first round next trip to the pub that Poe pulls something fancy out of his ass and outflies Kylo on his run."

"I'll take you on that bet, actually." Ben challenged confidently. "My run was damned near perfect."

"Okay, can you boys please just focus on the task at hand?" An exasperated General Luke Skywalker scolded them with a sigh. The Black Squadron was known for their unmatched skill, but also for their incessant banter and trash talk. Poe knew that Skywalker was worried that while the guys were top notch pilots, they didn't take the work seriously enough. It was all fun and games until they faced a real enemy.

"Pipe down so I can concentrate," Poe announced. But he was just trying to get their attention, really. He could fly without any problems regardless of the noise or conditions. He had pulled off moves that surprised them all during inclement weather, mock attacks, anything. Focusing was easy for him, and he was just _that_ skilled when it came to flying.

He made a big circle before lining up with his own row of targets out in the field below. He was still up pretty high, but he could make out the crude structures built to resemble enemy military ground vehicles or buildings below. As he flew over the targets, he fired precisely and destroyed them all, only using one shot on each. But he wasn't done yet.

After he'd finished with all the targets he pointed the nose of his plane to the sky, flying straight up before doubling back down in an impressive, dangerously fast vertical spin that lined him up nicely for a second pass. He went through and hit all of the targets a second time, decimating them to rubble. The whole maneuver was done so quickly and seamlessly that he had managed to beat the others' times and they had only made _one_ pass. The others had chosen to turn around in the usual manner, requiring a wide arc, rather than using Poe's trick to change directions quickly before returning to their original marks.

Most of them sat in a stunned silence, but Finn was elated that he'd just won himself a free drink. "Woo!" he yelled over the radio. "That's one helluva pilot!"

Poe grinned to himself as the others made their way to his flank and assumed the usual formation before returning to the landing area. But as they flew over, he noticed that a small crowd of other pilots had gathered below, shielding their eyes from the sun as they watched the Black Squadron train.

"Hey, Kylo," he said, using a direct line to only Ben's plane. "Let's not leave 'em thinking I'm the only one to look out for. Wanna show these guys one last stunt?"

Poe knew that his friend was likely sulking from being outdone. He was competitive, though, and would almost certainly be up for what Poe was planning.

"Yeah. What are you thinking?" Ben sounded serious and determined. That was good.

"Fall back with me. When the others are going in to land, you break left and fly for a good minute. I'm going to break right and do the same. Turn back on my mark."

"Roger that."

Poe slowed considerably, letting Finn and Hux pass him as they went in for a landing.

"Everything alright, Dameron?" Hux asked over the radio.

"What? Yeah, just going to fly around for another minute. Such a gorgeous day for it," Poe lied.

"You guys go ahead," Ben added.

"Suit yourselves," Hux said dismissively.

As Hux and Finn neared the landing strip, Poe looked over and could just barely see Ben watching him from his own cockpit. He nodded at his friend and then turned sharply right. In his mirror he saw that Ben had turned off as well and was fading into the distance directly behind him, accelerating in the opposite direction.

When he could no longer make out the back of Ben's plane in his rearview, he signaled him. "Turn back now," he said over the comms, pulling off the same maneuver from before, allowing him to switch directions quickly and without making a wide turn. As he did so, he noticed with appreciation that Ben had apparently done the same, because the other pilot was already in line with him and travelling straight for him.

"Ah, Poe. You didn't tell me we were doing _chicken_ again," Ben complained. "I guess I should have known."

Poe laughed. "Come on, Ben. Where's your sense of adventure?"

As the two rapidly closed the distance between them, Skywalker came over the radio with a mix of fear and anger in his voice. "Dameron! Solo! Just what the hell do you think you're doing?! You're endangering yourselves as well as military aircraft. Fall back into formation and land. _Now_."

"Yes, sir, General. Sir." Poe barely suppressed a chuckle as he delivered his overly polite response to Skywalker.

But he was shocked back to reality when Ben's panicked voice hailed him. "Shit, Poe, are we going left or right?!"

Poe realized that he was almost upon Ben now, the two planes perfectly aligned for a deadly head-on collision. "Fuck . . . left. Right? Yeah, right."

"Right. Wait, did you mean left?" Damnit, Poe! I'm going left!" Ben called.

It was not a moment too soon. An instant later was the last possible second that the two could veer off to avoid hitting one another. Poe jerked the stick left and turned hard, tilting the aircraft so that his left wing pointed to the ground. Ben did the same and the two flashed by one another, the underbellies of their planes parallel and only feet apart.

"Hell yeah!" he exclaimed. "Nice flying, Ben! I mean-"

"You, too, Poe!" Ben yelled. Poe smiled to himself. In that moment, Ben was just his best friend, the boy who'd learned to fly alongside him. In that moment, silly titles and who flew best didn't matter.

What did matter, was the dangerous tone of Skywalker's voice. "You two. My office. The second you hit the ground. Acknowledge."

"Yes sir," Poe and Ben responded in unison. As they guided their planes toward the landing strip, he could see Skywalker standing at the end, his uniform and thinning hair whipping in the wind, his arms crossed over his chest in a defiant stance.

Poe wasn't worried, though. He and Ben would smooth talk their way out of it, like they always did. He glanced over and squinted through the windows and the distance between them to confirm that Ben, like him, was high on adrenaline and the joy of the flight.

* * *

"And another thing. These boys _look up_ to you two!" Skywalker thundered, pacing back and forth before Poe and Ben, who were standing at attention before him in his office. The light from outside filtered through the blinds behind the general, casting his form in a dramatic silhouette as he gesticulated wildly at the young men. "What kind of example do you think it sets for them if the two of you are playing _chicken_ in fighter planes?!"

"You're absolutely right, sir. They do . . . they look up to us. Which is why we were uh . . . trying to motivate the men, sir," Poe explained in a calm voice.

"Uh, yeah. Motivate them," Ben agreed, nodding. Skywalker was easily riled, and Poe was often the cause; but today Ben was also in the line of fire. Next to him, Poe could feel tension rolling off of Ben in waves. He frowned uncomfortably hoping that this scenario didn't remind Ben of all of the times that Poe had gotten him in trouble with his father. Han had been so tough on him . . .

Skywalker stopped walking and leveled them both with a murderous stare. "Motivate them? For what?"

"They're bored, sir. We don't do anything besides run through training every day. Bored soldiers are sloppy. Sir."

Skywalker sighed. It was an excessively tired sound and for a moment Poe felt guilty for adding to the older man's worries. "Fine," he said, rubbing a hand over his forehead as he looked down at a stack of paperwork on his desk. "But leave the motivation up to me. Another stunt like that and you'll both live to regret it. Understood?"

"Sir, yes sir," Poe and Ben said together.

"Great. Dismissed," Skywalker sighed, turning away from them and gazing out the window through the open blinds.

Poe and Ben turned to leave when Skywalker suddenly seemed to remember something. "Not you, Dameron," he called over his shoulder. Ben gave Poe an apologetic shrug before exiting the office and closing the door behind him.

Poe looked over at Skywalker uncertainly. Was he going to get chastised for taking Rey flying the day before after all? "Lieutenant Dameron, I take it you've heard the rumors about most of the active personnel on this base being transferred."

Poe tried to hide the relief he felt; it wasn't a disciplinary meeting after. He nodded at Skywalker in agreement. "Yes, sir. But I assumed they were just that—rumors. Hawaii is about as far from the action as it gets."

"Ordinarily, yes. But the circumstances are a little bit more complicated than that right now. While we haven't officially declared war, we have been sending assistance in the form of weaponry and other military equipment to Great Britain, along with some men. Most of this assistance has been taken from the Pacific Fleet."

"So you're sending us to fill the holes," Poe finished for him.

"Precisely." Skywalker eyed Poe as if waiting for him to say something else. But Poe stood in silence, his mind working quickly. Being transferred wouldn't have meant much to him two months ago. If anything, he might have been excited to spend time in a place as beautiful and exotic as Hawaii. Now, such a transfer meant potentially leaving Rey behind. He didn't like it. But he wasn't one to resist the call of duty.

He looked up and met Skywalker's searching gaze. The older man sighed and went on. "How would you feel about such a transfer, son?"

"I'd be grateful for the opportunity to do something to help the war effort," Poe replied immediately.

"Good. Very good," Skywalker said thoughtfully. "We aren't at war yet. Some of us might be, though, and soon."

Poe was confused. "Sir?"

Skywalker cleared his throat uncertainly before continuing. "Dameron, I don't have to tell you that you're the best pilot this base has ever seen. And you don't fly like one of the best without gaining some notice. The tide of this war is being decided in the British skies, and the Brits have handpicked you to be part of their Rapier Squadron program. It's a special group of American pilots that are being sent over to help the Royal Air Force against the Nazis."

Poe inhaled in surprise, his eyes widening. He was honored and anxious and troubled all at once. "Um, so . . . am I being assigned to transfer to England?" he asked.

"No. Again, we aren't at war yet. You would be volunteering." Skywalker paused. "But this is the part where I am supposed to talk you out of it. We _will_ be at war soon. I'm confident of it. When that day comes, I need as many pilots like you as possible. If you're off fighting for the Brits, Black Squadron is significantly weakened. Every man makes a difference."

"But the British need our help now," Poe reasoned.

"Yes, they do."

"Sir, if you don't mind my asking, what would you do?"

Skywalker grinned at Poe with a twinkle in his eye that made him look a decade younger. "If it were me? I'd go."

Poe heaved a heavy sigh before returning Skywalker's smile. "When do I leave?"

* * *

"The day after tomorrow?!" Ben asked, flabbergasted. "I don't understand. Yesterday we had never even heard of this Rapier business. How could they be sending you out so soon?" It was later that afternoon. Poe and Ben were having a snack in the mess, and Poe was already regretting sharing the news about his imminent deployment. If Ben's reaction was any indication, he was going to catch heat from everyone about his decision.

"I guess the situation over there is just that urgent," he responded with a shrug. "The British are losing a lot of good pilots."

"Sounds dangerous." Ben was staring daggers at him, his tone grave.

"Well, I . . . I expect it will be."

"Then why risk yourself?"

"Uh . . . It's not my choice. I've been assigned." Poe glanced uncomfortably at Ben. Lying had never been his strong suit. But Ben had apparently bought it. He wasn't looking at Poe anymore and was staring angrily off into the distance.

"They can't just _do_ that," he spat, shaking his head in amazement. "We aren't even at _war_!"

Poe laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Look, Kylo, I'm 25. Pretty soon they're going to have me teaching flight lessons instead of actually priming me for battle. I joined to do something meaningful with my life. You know that. This is my chance." Ben turned back to Poe, his face softened. His look of indignation turning into one of resigned sadness. Poe instantly regretted his passionate words. Doubtlessly, Ben wanted just such a chance for himself. Doing something "meaningful" was just as much his dream as it was Poe's. But Poe knew that Skywalker would never send his nephew into danger unnecessarily, not after Han's reaction to Ben enlisting two years prior.

"What about Rey?" Ben asked finally.

Poe was silent. He had, of course, thought about Rey and how this would affect their relationship, how she would feel about him leaving—by _choice_. He had lied to Ben to save his pride, but Poe knew in his heart he couldn't lie to _her_ , couldn't look into the depths of her intuitive eyes and tell her anything but the truth.

"Rey is stronger than she looks," he said after a moment. "She'll understand that I have to do my duty."

"And if you don't come back?" Ben's voice was barely above a whisper but the ferocity in his tone was still apparent. Poe was surprised by the emotion etched so clearly on Ben's face. "How do you expect her, expect _us_ to just accept the fact that you could die?"

Poe plastered a confident smile on his face as he patted Ben on the shoulder again, this time with a loud smack. "Aw, come on, Kylo. You know me better than that. I'll come back. I promise. Best pilot at Mitchel can handle the Germans any day."

Ben was unconvinced but placated for now. Poe started off toward their barracks and waved his friend over to follow. He was supposed to meet Rey later and he needed to figure out what he was going to say to her . . . or whether he was going to say anything at all.

* * *

A few hours later Poe was trying to keep calm as he made his way to Rey's house. He had picked her a handful of daisies from the overgrown garden outside the head offices. The delicate flowers were newly blooming, and when Rey had caught sight of them a couple of days prior, she had squealed in excitement and dragged him over to admire them more closely.

"Daisies are my favorite," she'd told him, eyes shining. "They're just so cheerful, you know? Every time I look at them I just think of spring and fresh air and I can't help but smile."

Earlier that day Poe had waited until no one was looking and pulled up a few, hoping that the bright bouquet would make it easier to break the news of his departure. But the closer he got to Rey's, the deeper the pit in his stomach began to feel.

He had spent almost every free minute that he had with Rey over the past several weeks. He felt like he knew her intimately. He had memorized every line of her sweet face, and he knew just how to make her laugh in that reckless sort of way that caused her to snort in spite of herself. But he had no idea how she would react to the news of his volunteer mission overseas, one he might not return from. One he could have—and probably should have—said no to.

As he came to a stop on her doorstep, he transferred the flowers from one hand to another, gathering the nerve to knock. He noticed with dismay that the white and yellow blooms looked a little the worse for wear. He was so anxious that he hadn't even noticed how hard he was squeezing them on his way over.

He knocked three times, hard, and waited for Rey to answer. Instead, her perky roommate, Natalie, opened the door. "Hi, Poe," she said with a welcoming smile. "Come on in," she stepped back to make way for Poe to pass her and enter the house.

He obliged and made his way into the living room. The house was standard military housing but Rey and Natalie had made it their own with tasteful furnishings, giving it a cozy charm. Natalie walked by Poe and plopped down on the sofa, gesturing to the empty armchair nearby for him to sit.

But as soon as he touched the seat, Rey walked into the room, and he stood immediately to acknowledge her. When their eyes met her face broke out into her trademark thousand-watt smile that warmed Poe's insides like a cup of cocoa on a snowy night.

"Hi," she said shyly.

"Hi yourself," Poe replied, drinking in the sight of her in a simple green dress and low heels. It was probably what she'd worn underneath her apron at work that day, nothing special. But the color brought out the hints of green in her warm hazel eyes and was dumbfounded for the umpteenth time that this smart, pure, unassumingly pretty girl was his.

"Uh . . . these are for you," he offered awkwardly, holding out the dismal bouquet and averting his eyes.

True to form, Rey gasped with joy and practically sprinted over to him, taking the drooping flowers and cradling them like a newborn. "Daisies!" she exclaimed happily. "You remembered."

"Yeah. Sorry they're so-"

"They're _lovely_ ," she cut him off forcefully. "They're perfect. No one's ever given me flowers before," she added, her voice dropping low as though she was talking to herself.

"Well there's a first for everything," Natalie interjected in a bored voice. "Your date would show up early, and with a damned present," the redhead complained, shaking her head. "Meanwhile I seem to be getting stood up."

"Stood up?" Poe asked curiously.

"I'm going out too," Natalie said with a sigh. "Or I'm supposed to be anyway."

Poe looked over at her and noticed that Natalie was indeed dolled up like she had somewhere to be, her fiery red hair twisted into an elegant bun, her lips and cheeks rouged dramatically. "Big plans?" he asked, raising his eyebrows at her.

"If dinner with one of your scoundrel friends qualifies as big, then sure," she replied with a smirk. At that moment Poe heard a knock and turned to see Natalie's date, as she scurried quickly to answer the door.

As she threw it open, Poe was surprised to see Finn standing on the doorstep wearing pressed slacks and an ecstatic grin. Poe knew that his friend had been infatuated with the girl, but he missed the part where Finn had successfully scored a date. His odds of getting a second one didn't seem very high just then. Finn took one look at Natalie's scathing stare before looking away shamefully, his eyes finding Poe's behind her. "Hey, Poe," he called, waving at him from his place on the doorstep. "Uh . . . ready to go?" Finn turned back to Natalie, offering his arm.

"I've _been_ ready for half an hour," she whined. Finn gave her an apologetic smile, holding his arm out further. She sighed before linking her arm through his and stepping outside, looking back at Poe and Rey as she went. "You two have a nice time tonight."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" Finn yelled over his shoulder as he and Natalie set off across the lawn.

"Well that leaves things wide open," Poe muttered, turning back to Rey who was putting the daisies in a vase with water. "What do you want to do tonight?" he asked her, feeling more at ease now that it was just the two of them.

"It's up to you. I had a really long day today, actually. I only just got home a few minutes ago so I'm a bit . . . tired," Rey said, the end of her sentence punctuated by a yawn as she stretched and walked back into the living room, sitting on the sofa where Natalie had been.

 _Great_ , Poe thought with a sigh. _She's had a shit day and I'm about to make it worse. Or I could . . . not. I could just keep my damned mouth shut._ "So uh, what happened?" he asked, trying to push the troublesome thoughts of his bad news from his mind.

"Phasma gave me double cleaning duties because I was late this morning," Rey reported grumpily.

"And why is that?" Poe was pretty sure he already knew the answer.

"Oh, I don't know," she said vaguely. "I may or may not have been out all night with a handsome flyboy who's always up to no good."

"You don't know the half of it," he warned, moving next to her on the couch and pulling her into his lap.

"Hey, hey, food first," she scolded him teasingly, but even as she said it she was turning her face to his and leaning in for a kiss. He gratefully accepted, reveling in the familiar softness of her lips, the rosy scent of her hair.

As she pulled away and rested her head comfortably on his shoulder, he decided there was nowhere else he'd rather be. "Why don't we just stay here tonight instead of heading out?" he suggested. "I could cook you something. Sounds like you could use it after the day you've had."

Rey sat up eagerly. "You can cook?"

"Yup."

"You can cook _well_?" she added skeptically.

"Haha, yes," he assured her. "Cooking was actually one of my favorite hobbies back home."

"Eating is one of mine. I _knew_ we were meant to be," she proclaimed dramatically.

He laughed, gingerly lifting her off of his lap as he stood to make his way to the kitchen. "If you feel that way now I can't wait to see what you have to say after you taste the food."

* * *

He'd done the best with what Rey and Natalie had in their small kitchen, and he was pretty pleased with the results. But "pleased" didn't even begin to describe Rey, who was groaning appreciatively—and _loudly_ —with every bite of the roast chicken and mashed potatoes that he'd whipped up.

"This is _amazing_ ," she gushed, shoveling in another mouthful of potatoes and washing it down with a gulp of wine from her nearly empty glass. Poe couldn't help but smile. He'd been with women in the past who were concerned with being ladylike when they ate, if they ate around him at all. Rey wasn't the least bit shy about her appetite and she let nothing go to waste. She was already on her second plate of food and third glass of wine.

She looked up when she felt his eyes on her and he chuckled at her wine-stained mouth. "You enjoying yourself?"

"So much," she said, finishing her glass before leaning back in her chair and stretching. "Where did you learn to cook? Did your mom teach you that?"

"Yeah," he nodded. "She was an amazing cook. She let me help her out in the kitchen even when I was just a toddler. And it's a good thing, too, because my dad was total rubbish in the kitchen. She used to make fun of him because he couldn't even really manage a plate of eggs." He sighed, swirling his own wine thoughtfully. "I really miss her sometimes."

"Miss her?" Rey asked. "Your mom is . . .?"

"Yeah. She was sick. She died when I was ten. So it's not a fresh wound or anything," he said reassuringly to Rey, who looked mortified at having brought his dead mother up in conversation. "But you never really stop missing your mom."

"I don't really remember my mother," Rey said quietly. She was looking down at her hands folded in her lap. "Or my father."

Poe's head snapped up. She had mentioned something about not having known her father before, but she hadn't elaborated and he hadn't wanted to push the issue. But he had been curious about Rey's past ever since. He cleared his throat into the silence. "Um, I'm really sorry, Rey. That must have been tough."

"It was and it wasn't. It's awful not having parents, but I'm glad that I didn't really get a chance to know them before I lost them. I can't really miss something I never had."

His heart ached at her words. It surprised him that she'd faced such hardship given her bubbly personality. She was wise to try to rationalize her situation but it was infinitely sad that she had to look at her life in such a grim way. "Who were they?" he asked gently.

"I can't really remember much but I have heard stories from other people," she began. Poe nodded, encouraging her to go on.

"My father was a physician. Apparently this was sort of an ironic career for him because he was never in good health himself. That was unusual, too, because he came from a long line of strong men. His father was Obi-Wan Kenobi."

Poe's eyes widened in surprise. "The famous General from the Great War?"

"That's the one," she said. There was a sense of pride in her voice even though Poe knew that Obi-Wan Kenobi had died before she was born. But it made sense for her to cling to the one relative she really knew anything about.

"My mother didn't work," she went on. "Not officially, anyway. She helped out at my father's practice as a nurse. She didn't have formal training but they made it work, I suppose.

"Anyway, the Spanish Flu had sort of died out as a major threat a few years before I was born. We lived in Philadelphia and any urban area was obviously a risk, but it wasn't bad for us. When I was still pretty young, around two, I guess, my parents got word that one of my father's closest friends, who he'd gone to medical school with and worked alongside in the war, had the flu and wasn't doing well. He lived in New York at the time.

"So the two of them packed up, placed me in the care of my mother's brother, Unkar Plutt, and left me. We never heard from them again.

"I found out later that, as you might expect, my father had contracted the flu from his friend and passed it to my mother. They both died not long after."

Poe didn't know what to say. He was the positive one in his group of friends, the one who always had a smile on his face and an encouraging word for anyone who was feeling down. But just then he couldn't think of a thing to comfort Rey. He just stared at her, so tiny and vulnerable, so clearly afraid of being abandoned. And what was he about to do?

"I know they were trying to protect me from getting sick," she said suddenly. "But it's hard not to resent them sometimes. It just bothers me every now and again that they chose their sense of duty over me."

 _Well, that settles that. Definitely not telling her about my deployment tonight_ , Poe thought grimly.

"You're a strong woman, Rey." He reached across the table, grasping her hand firmly. "You've been through a lot in a short time and it hasn't broken you. You're such a positive person. You have a lot to be proud of."

She gave him a small smile, shaking her head. "You're right. I'm sorry. I shouldn't even be talking about this. What a way to ruin the mood."

"Not at all," he protested seriously. "I want to know everything there is to know about you, Rey Kenobi." He raised her hand to his face and kissed it, looking into her eyes.

"There's not much to know," she said, blushing under his gaze.

"How did you wind up here, as a nurse in Long Island?"

"Well . . . I don't want to keep the sob story going but my Uncle wasn't exactly a loving father figure. He did the bare minimum to keep me alive. I sort of . . . ran away to New York City a couple years ago. I found work as a waitress and stayed in a girls' home until I was old enough to join the military. I've wanted to be a nurse, to help sick people, for as long as I can remember. The military seemed like a way for me to do that _and_ have some adventure. But here I am, still in New York." She laughed and Poe smiled at the infectious sound.

"There may be some adventure in store for you yet."

"You mean Hawaii? There will be piña coladas and a sun tan in store me," she scoffed. "But I don't know about adventure.

Poe tried to hide the sadness he felt at the prospect of not going to Hawaii with her. He'd like nothing more than to lay on the beach with Rey for the rest of his life. But he knew that he would never forgive himself if he didn't take the opportunity to make a difference, to help the good guys win this war.

"Alright then. What would be more adventurous? What would do you if you weren't a nurse?"

"Hm. I love to read. I would be a book dealer. Or a writer," she mused.

"Really?" he asked, surprised. "I don't much like reading. I'd rather be out there _doing_ stuff instead of reading about it."

"That sounds like you. You're definitely a go-getter," she said affectionately. "But when I was living with Unkar, there wasn't much for me to do. I didn't have any friends or family. I read a lot to fill the time, and to escape, I guess. Reading let me live a different life. Lots of different lives, really."

"What do you like to read?"

"Loads of things. Lately I've been reading a lot of poetry."

"Ugh, poetry? Blegh." Poe couldn't imagination the appeal of poetry but he supposed he would give it a chance if Rey really liked it so much.

She giggled at his hyperbolic reaction before getting up and walking over to her bookshelf. She selected a volume and carried it back to the table. "This is my favorite right now."

Poe took the proffered book and read the cover. " _50 Poems_ by E. E. Cummings," he read aloud. "Fifty? Why would he need to write fifty poems? I feel like he should be able to get his point across in a few. Ten max."

"No," she argued, shaking her head defiantly. "They're all lovely and they all have something different to offer."

Poe began flipping through the book and was perplexed at what he saw. Disjointed words that didn't form sentences, a lack of punctuation, of capitalization. "This is weird," he announced, shutting the book. "The guy doesn't even capitalize anything."

"I know," Rey said with feeling, running her hand reverently over the book as he handed it back to her. "It's so rebellious and unique."

"Alright, but you gotta ease me into it," he said jokingly. "What else do you like?"

"I've got just the thing," she said brightly, hurrying over to the shelf and returning with another book, this one worn from years of loving use. She extended a hand to Poe and he took it, rising and following her to the couch. As he sat down, Rey calmly and methodically seated herself on his lap and leaned back against his chest.

Poe gulped at the closeness, the pressure of her weight on his thighs. His mind swam pleasantly from the wine and he wrapped his arms around her, all but forgetting that in a day's time he'd be saying goodbye to her.

"Okay, this is one of my favorite poems," she explained as an introduction. "It's written by a woman, which makes it even better."

"Lay it on me," Poe urged.

"This poem is called 'I Love You,' by Ella Wheeler Wilcox."

Poe snickered. "'I Love You?' Really? What an original title," he commented sarcastically.

"Shh!" she shushed him, swatting him playfully.

Rey cleared her throat before beginning.

"'I love your lips when they're wet with wine

And red with a wild desire;

I love your eyes when the lovelight lies

Lit with a passionate fire.

I love your arms when the warm white flesh

Touches mine in a fond embrace;

I love your hair when the strands enmesh

Your kisses against my face . . .'"

Rey had a wonderful reading voice. Each line sounded like a song that she was singing for him alone. Poe realized that he was holding his breath, hyper aware of the proximity of Rey's face and the hammering of his own heart. He didn't know what he'd expected from the poem, but it wasn't this.

She turned in his lap as she went on, facing him now. She enunciated each word carefully, her voice breathy in the quiet.

"'Not for me the cold, calm kiss

Of a virgin's bloodless love;

Not for me the saint's white bliss,

Nor the heart of a spotless dove.

But give me the love that so freely gives

And laughs at the whole world's blame,

With your body so young and warm in my arms,

It sets my poor heart aflame . . ."

Rey had looked up from the book now, her eyes locked on his with an intensity he hadn't seen in her before. She clearly had the poem memorized, because she didn't break eye contact as she finished the last stanza.

"'So kiss me sweet with your warm wet mouth,

Still fragrant with ruby wine,

And say with a fervor born of the South

That your body and soul are mine.

Clasp me close in your warm young arms,

While the pale stars shine above,

And we'll live our whole young lives away

In the joys of a living love."

The words of the poem, the pressure of her butt in his lap, and the feel of her breath against his face as she slowly drew closer were driving him mad.

He and Rey had never slept together. To his knowledge, she was a virgin, and he respected that. He had wanted to take their relationship slowly, something he had never bothered doing with any other woman. Then again, he'd never met a woman like Rey. But the voracious glow in her eyes and the way the provocative poem rolled off her tongue suggested her intentions were less than pure.

And that he was just fine with that. It was spectacular even. _Except_.

Except that in roughly thirty hours he would be leaving the country. He would be gone for an indeterminate amount of time, and he would be facing certain danger and possible death. He couldn't in good conscience take his relationship with Rey to the next level without her knowing the truth.

And yet he couldn't tell her. Not tonight. Not when the wine had brought about a delightful boldness in her that set his soul on fire. Not when she'd opened up to him in a way that he hadn't expected. Not when he realized for the first time that he was completely and irrevocably in love with her.

He met her passionate stare and ran his hands lightly up her forearms, feeling goosebumps erupt under his fingertips. Rey dropped the forgotten book, which hit the ground with a light thump, before leaning in and assailing him with a demanding kiss. He couldn't help but smile against her insistent mouth, savoring the moment, the simple pleasure of kissing Rey. How many more times would he get to do this?

She was turned fully toward him on his lap now, her dress riding up to the very top of her thighs as she straddled him. He was beginning to wonder how he was going to resist her, what he could possibly say to explain that he wanted nothing more than what she was giving, that if she only knew the things he _wanted_ to do to her . . . but that he _couldn't_ do those things, not now. He didn't want to hurt her pride. But giving in would likely hurt her worse in the long run.

Before Poe had to worry about it, though, the front door opened, starling them both. A tipsy-looking Natalie stumbled over the threshold, grasping Finn by the hand. Both of them were grinning like idiots.

They took one look at Rey splayed out on Poe's lap, empty wine bottles on the table, and burst into hysterical laughter. "Don't mind us," Natalie spluttered, waving dismissively at the two of them before turning back to Finn and placing a sloppy kiss to his cheek. "'Night," she said, marching down the hall to her bedroom and winking at Rey on the way.

Finn saluted Poe before turning on his heel to make his own exit. This was his chance. "Wait up, buddy," he called to Finn.

"You serious?" he asked, turning back to Poe in confusion.

"Hey, he seems pretty drunk," he said to Rey. "I'm gonna help him get home so he doesn't get himself into any trouble."

Rey looked disappointed for a flash before her brilliant smile took over. "Alright. Thanks for a great night."

He gave her one last peck on the lips before she stood up and awkwardly smoothed her dress down.

"Still wanna be my date for the big farewell dance thing tomorrow?" Word about Hawaii had finally gotten out and been confirmed. Most of the soldiers and nurses from Mitchel would be transferred the following week, and a huge group of them were being hosted at a local jazz club in Manhattan as a sort of final hoorah for the New York City military personnel.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," Rey replied earnestly.

"Good night," he said quietly in parting. Poe gave her hand a squeeze before catching up with Finn out in front of the house.

"Are you crazy man?!" Finn asked in a frantic whisper. "She clearly wanted you. I can get home fine. What's going on?"

"She uh . . . she doesn't know I'm going to the front," Poe said quietly, staring guiltily at his feet as they walked.

"Wow. Yeah. That's . . . sorry, man, I don't know what to say."

"It's fine," Poe said, patting his friend on the back. "I'll figure it out. You and Natalie seem to be having a nice time."

"Yeah," Finn agreed, a smile in his voice. "She's pretty great."

As they walked home in the gathering dark, Poe wondered for the first time if he was making the right choice. He had wanted to be a pilot like his dad for as long as he could remember. And he was a _good_ one. He had chance to make a real difference in the world, to bring honor to his family, to put his skills to use.

But as he thought of Rey with her ready smiles, dorky laugh, and shelves of beat-up books, he realized that to take one chance he was giving up another. Because with her, he had a chance to be truly happy with someone he _loved_. He'd never had that before. If he went to Skywalker's office in the morning and told him that he'd changed his mind, he could pack his bags and spend a summer in paradise with the woman of his dreams.

It was just that, though—a dream. In his heart he knew he could never shirk his duty for his own selfish desires. He just hoped that he wouldn't live to regret it.

* * *

 ** _A/N_ : Hey again. First of all, thanks so much to everyone who left encouraging words on my last chapter. It makes me so happy that so many of you are still following my story and this ship in general.**

 **I hope you enjoyed this long update. I will try to keep updating this fic weekly but next weekend may not happen because I am going to a wedding out of town, so I thought I would do a long update this weekend :)**

 **Lastly, I really hope you guys like this chapter. I hope this story is not going to slow/boring anyone. I promise that things are about to change, big time. It was just important to me to lay the groundwork well for our damerey looove. Anyway, please let me know what you think!**

 **Have a nice night and watch Game of Thrones tonight! Winter is coming :P**


	5. Pretty Women, Hard Liquor, & Ace Pilots

_**A/N:**_ **Hey guys! So sorry for the long hiatus. My life has been crazy! I hope you enjoy this insanely long update. Some very mildly NSFW content to follow. Happy reading!**

* * *

"I still can't believe our luck," Jess gushed as she pinned another curler into her shining, ebony hair. "You know some of the girls are being transferred to Fort _Benning_. That's _Georgia_. Ugh."

Rey laughed good naturedly at her friend's hyperbolic disgust. "Oh, come on. Georgia wouldn't be so bad. Poe's from the South, you know."

"Yeah," Jess agreed, grinning devilishly at Rey. "You must be thrilled that we're being transferred to the same base as his squadron."

"Of course I am," she said, her face reddening. "It's a relief. I . . . don't want to lose him."

"I wouldn't want to either," Jess remarked from across the room. "God, he's so . . . good looking. And _Pearl Harbor_ ," she squealed, hurrying over to Rey and taking her by the hand. "We're going to live in Hawaii, Rey! It's like a dream."

"Yeah. I suppose it is." Rey released Jess's hand and sat down at her vanity, reaching out and testing her own curlers. "Ouch!" she exclaimed, withdrawing her hand from the scalding metal and nursing her burned finger in her mouth.

Jess giggled at her mistake. "Rey, you really are hopeless when it comes to this stuff. Don't touch _that_ part," she scolded. "I'll help you."

That night the two of them would be attending a huge gathering, a dance for the servicemen, with other nurses and soldiers who were being transferred within the month. Rey was doing her best to look presentable for the evening, but feminine beauty rituals weren't exactly her forte. Natalie was working that day, so she had called Jess over for some guidance.

"Thanks," she said gratefully, settling back in her chair as Jess got to work on her hair.

"You know, you're not the only one who's pleased that Poe and his boys are coming to Hawaii," Jess announced with a mischievous smirk.

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I told you. I've got my eye on that friend of his."

Rey sighed. She knew where this was going. Jess had been interested in Kylo for weeks. She had set her sights on him from day one, and Rey knew the reason why. Jess was competitive, ambitious and sure of herself. She wanted Kylo precisely because he _didn't_ want her. She thrived on the challenge. But at the same time, Jess had been pouting at her continued failure to attract his attention, and Rey was bored with the whole dull drama. So she determinedly remained silent.

"I don't understand it," Jess went on anyway. "He seems completely disinterested. It doesn't matter what I say or do." She cocked her head to the side as if deep in thought before continuing. "Actually, I think it's more than a lack of interest. He seems downright _angry_ when I flirt with him."

Rey couldn't help but laugh at that. "Well, from what I can tell that's Kylo's default mode," she mused. "I take this to mean that you don't have a date for tonight?"

"No," Jess sulked. "But that doesn't mean that I'm going to spoil your night. I'm excited, really. Besides, we're more than a little outnumbered by men. I'm bound to find someone else."

Rey smiled at Jess's confidence. She was right: fifteen minutes into the evening and she'd be sure to have a group of soldiers vying for her attention. But Rey was more than content with just one.

"You hardly even need curlers, you know," Jess remarked admiringly. She ran her hands through Rey's glossy brown waves as she worked. "Speaking of which, you never bother to get all dolled up like this. Is tonight going to be a _special_ night for you?" She raised her eyebrows at Rey in the mirror.

"Um . . . who knows?" Rey responded with an awkward chuckle.

The big event was at jazz club in Manhattan, and Poe and his friends had all rented rooms at a hotel near the venue so that they could relax and stay as late as they wanted to. That kind of privacy, coupled with the excitement and promise of change on the horizon fueled a sense of romantic possibility. It was a known fact that couples often slept together on the eve of transfers and deployments. Rey knew that.

She also knew that lots of the soldiers expected this, but she didn't feel that pressure from Poe. For one thing, they weren't actually separating. The transfer just meant that they'd be moving—together. But even if it would have been their last night together, Rey wouldn't have been worried about Poe pushing her into something she didn't want to do. He was older than her, true enough. And while they hadn't discussed it explicitly she knew that Poe had already been with other women. But he was different. He had never tried to coerce her into a physical relationship. _If anything_ , she thought darkly, _he's been a little too polite lately._

Rey didn't know what to make of how Poe had left in a hurry the night before, when she had been trying to create a little romantic possibility of her own.

That night she had opened up to him about her past, and he had been so kind and _good_ , just like he always was. So Rey was grateful for his understanding and gentleness, but was surprised to find that in addition to that, she _desired_ him. She'd wanted desperately to show him how much he meant to her, how he was the one constant in her life, the one person who she trusted with her heart. She'd lost her family, and she'd spent her intervening years moving about and trying to sustain herself without relying on anyone else. Unkar Plutt had shown her just how far leaning on others would get you.

Yet something told her that if she fell, Poe would always be there to catch her. Somewhere behind his carefree smile was a deep attachment that she felt profoundly, almost like a tangible cord connecting their hearts. And somewhere between the laughter and conversation and free-flowing wine, she'd decided she wanted to give herself over to that feeling. She couldn't say where her newfound bravery had come from, but at some point during the evening Rey had looked at Poe and felt something primal and insistent stirring inside her.

Rey was a virgin. It wasn't some principled stand she'd taken—it was just the way things worked out for her. She had only ever gone on a few dates with boys in the past, and they had never really caught her interest. After living so many years essentially on her own, Rey was wary of letting anyone in. What if they wanted out? She didn't have time for anything less than the _real_ thing, and what she had with Poe was real—she was absolutely sure of it.

So last night Rey had done her best to send all the little signals Poe would need to know that she was ready, to know that he wouldn't be stepping out of line or taking things too far if he made a move. Except he hadn't. Just when Rey had felt the sexual tension between them crackling with electricity, just as Poe's warm hands had slid up her thighs in the most delicious way, and just as she'd mustered the courage to invite him to her bedroom, Finn and Nat had arrived home. And Poe had left before she'd even had time to register the reason why.

She wasn't upset. If anything, Poe's gentlemanly courtesy only endeared him to her even more. But some small voice in the back of Rey's mind told her that it wasn't just chivalry. Maybe she'd been right to wonder how her skinny figure and messy brown hair had attracted the likes of Poe to begin with. Maybe he didn't _want_ her like she wanted him.

 _Tonight, I'll find out one way or another_ , she decided. Even if she and Poe _were_ both transferring to Hawaii together, even if there wasn't anything particularly final about that evening, something about it seemed momentous and special. She'd been tense with anticipation all morning, and she took that as a sign that it was right. It was time to tell Poe how she really felt, and maybe to _show_ him with the kind of physical intimacy she'd been secretly wanting to share with him for some time now.

An uncomfortable tug on her hair shocked Rey back to the present as Jess twisted another section around a curler before expertly pinning it up. "Well, do you want to borrow one of my dresses?"

"Um, why?" Rey asked, looking up at Jess's face in the mirror.

"Well, yours are just a little . . . you know, modest. Considering your intentions." Jess winked gleefully. She was reveling in how uncomfortable this was making Rey, who fought to keep the blush from her cheeks.

"No," Rey said, shaking her head emphatically, causing the curlers to bounce against her scalp and pulling a loose strand from Jess's hands. "I want to look good, but I still want to look like _me._ "

"At least let me pick something out for you then," Jess urged, excitement lending her voice a giddy edge that Rey couldn't help but smile at.

"Fine," she relented.

"Excellent," Jess squealed with delight, hurrying over to Rey's closet. She flipped through the small array of dresses hanging there, the hangers squeaking along the metal rod and thwacking together rapidly. Rey looked up when the sound ceased to see that Jess had selected a dress.

"This is the one," she said, lifting the dress reverently from the closet and laying it out across the bed.

"Oh, I don't know," Rey replied hesitantly. "It's a little flashy, don't you think? I haven't even worn it before."

"No." Jess's voice brooked no argument. "Poe's going to love it."

Rey merely nodded in response. The dress, the hair, none of it really mattered. She was distracted with thoughts of the night to come. More than anything, she was eager to see Poe. She couldn't wait to go dancing with him, something they'd never done before. And while a small part of her was nervous about what may or may not transpire _after_ the dancing, her trust in Poe reassured her that it would all work out.

* * *

A few hours later Rey studied her reflection in the full-length mirror on the back of her closet door. Her hair fell in shiny chestnut curls to her shoulders, framing her face flatteringly. Jess had painstakingly lined her eyes with kohl black liner despite Rey's constant blinking and flinching. The effect was surprising: her hazel-brown eyes looked bright and alert, and bigger than usual. The look was finished with bold, cherry red lips. She hardly ever wore lipstick, so at first the change was a little tough to get used to, but overall Rey was impressed with Jess's work. She felt alluring but classy, and her lipstick matched her fiery red dress and high heels.

The dress was a gift from Natalie, one Rey had never worn because in truth it was more fitting of Natalie's style than her own. The garment buttoned up the front with black cloth buttons from the bottom, which rested just above her knees, all the way up to the top. The neckline had a fold-over collar, and it was cut in a V that revealed more cleavage than she would usually dare show. The whole dress hugged her slender body so tightly that it revealed curves Rey had never thought she possessed. The matching shoes were red and black suede heels that added at least a couple of inches to her height. Overall she was pleased and secretly grateful that she'd allowed Jess to make her more ladylike for the night.

Poe, Finn, Hux, and Kylo had agreed to meet at Rey's house to pick her, Jess, and Natalie up for the evening. When she heard the doorbell, Rey answered eagerly to find Finn at the threshold, smiling in greeting before looking expectantly over her shoulder for Natalie.

"I'm ready, I'm ready!" the redhead called breathlessly from behind Rey and Jess, bounding up to them before hurrying to slide her heels on. She had arrived back from her shift only minutes before and had to rush to prepare for the evening, but it didn't show. As usual, Rey noted appreciatively that her friend looked gorgeous. Her pale skin and red hair were complimented by an emerald green dress. Her eyes were accentuated with dark makeup that Rey was amazed she'd applied so fast and her wild, natural curls hung loose around her face.

"Late as usual," Finn scolded her jokingly.

"Keep that up and you'll be going home alone tonight," Nat warned, stepping past Jess to poke Finn in the chest as she spoke. He chuckled to himself before taking her hand and leading her down the front porch steps.

Rey's eyes settled on Poe then, and any discomfort she felt in her tight dress and high heels dissolved when she saw the way he looked at her in them. As he walked up to the door he caught sight of her and stopped dead in his tracks, his eyes raking hungrily over her dress.

"Doesn't she look great, boys?" Jess asked suddenly. "I'm a miracle worker."

Finn whistled enthusiastically and Hux nodded in approval while Kylo appraised her impassively, standing off to the side. When Rey noticed him looking at her, he quickly turned away.

"See?" Jess whispered, elbowing Rey in the side as she stepped up next to her. "I told you Poe would appreciate it."

Rey nodded gratefully in response. "Looks like you've caught someone's attention yourself," she noted, nodding toward Hux who was gazing admiringly at Jess. Rey could see why—her friend looked stunning. Her black hair was pinned up, revealing her graceful neck and flawless olive skin. She wore a deep blue flapper style dress that was short enough to showcase her long legs.

Jess followed Rey's stare and smiled demurely at Hux before turning toward Kylo. He kept his eyes trained determinedly _away_ from Jess, and Rey had to stifle a laugh as Jess huffed indignantly in response. She pushed past Rey and made her way over to where Finn and Natalie were talking, winking at Hux as she went.

Rey looked back at Poe and giggled shyly as he continued to gape at her, his mouth literally hanging open. She had to admit that she liked it. Poe was always so respectful, and while she loved that about him, it was nice to feel so desirable.

"Ready to go?" she asked brightly.

"Uh . . . yeah, of course. You look . . . Rey, you look amazing," he said, offering his hand as she stepped delicately down her font steps to meet him.

She suddenly felt silly for being worried about his possible lack of interest before. The way Poe was looking at her reminded her for the thousandth time that he cared deeply for her, and she felt like the luckiest girl alive to be with him.

He leaned down and kissed her in greeting as she took his arm. "You don't look so bad yourself," she giggled as she pulled away, taking in the sight of him in his uniform, the jacket neatly pressed, his hat arranged carefully over his dark hair. He was clean-shaven and smelled heavenly. She sighed contentedly, tightening her hold on his arm.

"Thanks," he grinned, and Rey smirked when she saw that her lipstick was smeared across his mouth. She reached up to wipe it off with her hand as he guided her down the sidewalk to catch up with the others.

It was a short walk to the train and their ride to the city was quick and cozy. They all shared cocktails and joked while Finn bragged about being the best dancer in all the armed forces. Rey was pleasantly surprised to find that when they got off, the station was only about a block away from the club.

As soon as they stepped out onto the crowded street, she could already hear the swing music playing and feel the sense of excitement in the air. It was an even larger event than she'd realized. The brightly colored sign over the entrance to the dance hall read "Coruscant Club," and throngs of servicemen and women were crowding in.

Once they were inside, the music was loud enough to be almost deafening, but Rey liked it. The sounds from the big band made her body vibrate pleasantly, and the need to be heard over the music seemed to prompt loud and lively conversation all throughout the club. She could smell cooking food and cigar smoke and see candles twinkling on all of the tables, while a glittering chandelier dominated the view of the dancefloor off to the side.

Everywhere she looked people were smiling, laughing, drinking, dancing. It was a welcome change to the sense of worry that had been rippling through the base because of the growing prospect of war and the various transfers that had many people splitting up.

Rey wanted to find an empty table once they'd all gotten their bearings, but Natalie insisted that they get a round of drinks first. Poe led Rey by the hand through the dense crowd to the bar where he ordered her a drink. When everyone was served, Finn raised his own glass in a toast. "To pretty women, hard liquor, and ace pilots," he bellowed over the music.

"Here, here," Hux said enthusiastically as their glasses came together with a clink.

Rey took her first sip. It was a sidecar—sweet but very strong. It was perfect. "Here, here," she agreed.

As they made their way to the tables to rid themselves of their handbags and coats, the band struck up Glenn Miller's "In the Mood" to enthusiastic cheers from the crowd. "Let's dance," Poe said immediately, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in, his eyes eager.

"Okay," she agreed, laughing at his impatience. "Let me go set my drink and bag down first."

"I can bring your things to the table," Jess offered. "I'm lacking a dance partner, after all," she sighed, casting a grumpy glance at Kylo.

"Not if I have anything to say about it," Hux announced suddenly, appearing at Jess' side and offering his hand.

"Alright then," Jess replied, intrigued. She shoved her drink and bag unceremoniously at Rey before accepting Hux's hand and following him to the dance floor.

Rey sighed before turning to Poe with a shrug. "Let's go find a place for all of this stuff."

"Great. You can take mine," Natalie said gratefully, piling her own handbag on top of the bundle in Rey's arms and finishing her drink in one, impressive gulp. She stacked her empty glass underneath Rey's in her hand before grabbing Finn and dragging him off toward the band.

"Let me help you with that," Poe laughed, reaching over to relieve Rey of some of her load.

"It's fine. I'm going to so sit down anyway. I'll watch the stuff." Rey turned at the sound of Kylo's voice. She'd almost forgotten he was there, quiet as he was. She noticed that his own drink was already empty and he looked decidedly less sour than usual. His hat was tilted slightly to the side atop his thick black hair and a small, dazed sort of smile adorned his normally severe face.

"You sure?" Poe asked his friend.

"Yeah. Positive."

"Thank you," Rey said, relieved, as she handed off the purses and glasses. It was unlike Kylo to do something nice for her, but she wasn't complaining.

Kylo arranged everything so that he could manage it all and turned around without another word, disappearing into the dense crowd as he headed off in the direction of the tables.

"Alright," Poe said, taking Rey's arm in his. "You and me have a date with the dancefloor."

She bit her lip and grinned up at him as they moved out to meet the others. The upbeat tempo of the music had the couples moving quickly this way and that. Rey loved swing dancing, and she felt instinctively that Poe did, too.

As he led her out onto the floor, he took one of her hands in his and placed his other hand on her waist, taking the lead. She watched in awe as his feet moved rapidly with the music. It took her a moment to get her bearings, but soon enough she started following him, moving toward him and away again, kicking her feet up and swinging her hips. Rey had always been a good dancer, and she was grateful for that as Poe energetically spun her around, dipped her, and quite literally danced circles around her. She wasn't surprised that like everything else she'd seen him do, Poe was exceptional at dancing.

The room spun around them and the music swelled as they danced and Rey felt dizzy with happiness like a kid at the carnival. The blur of lights and colors swirled around her, but she could clearly see Poe's face looking back at her. He was breathing heavily with exertion but his eyes were bright with the thrill of it all.

When the song ended, the band took a break and several couples left the dance floor with them. But a record player began blaring a slower song through the speakers in the intermission. Rey wrapped her arms around Poe's neck as his hands settled on her waist, swaying her gently to the music. She recognized the song, "I'll Be Seeing You." It was melancholy but romantic, one of Rey's favorites. She rested her head against his chest as he pulled her even closer. She breathed in the smell of him, clean and familiar. His breath was warm and ticklish against her face as he leaned in to speak to her.

"You enjoying yourself?" he asked.

"Nope," Rey responded with a smirk. "You're a terrible dancer, Lieutenant Dameron."

Poe gasped in the pretense of offended shock. "Well, Kenobi, I guess I'll just have to find another partner." He made a show of looking all about the room before Rey gave up the ruse and punched him playfully in the chest.

"Not a chance. You're mine tonight," she insisted, reaching up and taking his cap off before settling it on her own head.

"I am yours," Poe agreed, dipping his head and capturing her lips in a kiss. "Forever."

His eyes glinted at her as he pulled away and Rey yanked him back into a hug, squeezing him almost painfully, her chest tight with emotion.

The band returned, and after several more dances and a couple more drinks Rey was lightheaded and giddy in the most delectable way. It was all so perfect. The music, the dancing, the way Poe looked at her like she was the only woman in the room _._ She even _felt_ like the only woman in the room—until an elbow slammed into her back with surprising force, nearly knocking the breath out of her.

"Oops! Sorry, Rey," Natalie yelled over the music. Finn had spun her so dramatically that the little woman had stumbled backward into Rey forcefully.

"It's fine," Rey said, shaking her head at the two of them, who had clearly had a few more drinks themselves since she'd seen them last. They looked to be having a tremendous time of it, though, grinning from ear to ear and flailing around the dancefloor like no one was watching.

"Let's take a break," Rey suggested, turning back to Poe who was watching Finn and Natalie in amusement. He nodded in agreement and the two of them headed toward their table. As she caught sight of it, Rey noticed that Kylo was _still_ sitting there alone. Presumably he'd been alone for the whole evening.

"Your friend Kylo is an odd one," she observed to Poe as they walked. "He's uh . . . very quiet. Shy."

Poe laughed. "Na, he's not shy. He just likes to watch and listen. But he's got a lot to say when you get him started."

"Hm. He doesn't seem to care much for dancing either."

Poe followed Rey's eyes to where Kylo sat alone.

"Maybe no one has asked him," he offered, shrugging.

"And why would they? He doesn't look very . . . welcoming."

"I'm telling you, that's just how he is. He's a great guy deep down. Really. One of the best men I know."

"That's high praise," Rey said. "For someone so grumpy. And for someone who has spent his entire evening by himself in the corner."

"I don't know that he _wants_ it this way, you know?" Poe said defensively. "I honestly doubt he likes being alone. He just doesn't do so well in groups like this."

Rey was silent for a moment, regarding the solitary figure at the table thoughtfully. "He's your best friend. I know that. I think I should try to get to know him better, even if he seems to . . . hate me."

Poe scoffed. "He doesn't hate you, Rey. We've been through this. He's . . . protective of me. We've always been really close. He's not used to someone else I care about in the picture. He'll come around."

"Hopefully sooner than later," Rey added.

"I agree. Why don't you dance with him for a bit? That's sure to break the ice."

Rey turned to Poe in disbelief. "What?! No. No! I can't."

"Rey, you've just shown me that actually you _can_ dance. Pretty damned well, too."

"That's not what I-,"

"Now scoot," Poe cut her off, smacking her lightly on the butt before shoving her in Kylo's direction.

She took a few uncertain steps forward before turning back to Poe with a pleading look on her face.

He chuckled and stepped up to her, grabbing her by the hand and giving it a comforting squeeze. "Come on, Rey. It's just a dance. Be nice."

"Fine," she said, sighing in resignation.

But as soon as she let go of Poe's hand and began walking over to Kylo, Rey regretted her decision. She cast a glance back over her shoulder at Poe who stood with his hands in his pockets, watching her. He flashed her what was meant to be a reassuring smile, but she felt uncertainty and nerves crawling over her skin as she turned back to Kylo.

The dark-haired pilot sat alone at a table in the corner. He was hunched over, staring down into his drink, one he appeared to have been nursing for quite some time. Condensation had pooled around the bottom of the glass and was darkening the tablecloth beneath it. While conversation and laughter sprung up all around him, Kylo himself remained silent and still. It was off-putting.

Rey was internally kicking herself for agreeing to reach out to him. Yes, he was Poe's best friend. It seemed like a logical step in their relationship for her to get to know Kylo better. But as she finally stepped up to the table, she remembered why they weren't better friends to begin with.

Kylo Ren was a bit of a jerk.

He looked up when he heard her arrive, probably by the click of her heels on the floor. His dark eyes met hers and Rey was surprised to see curiosity instead of hostility in them. But Kylo said nothing, and she became painfully aware of the awkward silence hanging between them. "Um, hi," she began, horrified to find that she was _waving_ at him. _Quit it, weirdo_ , she scolded herself. _He's right in front of you. What are you waving at?_

She plastered a friendly smile on her face and dropped her hand to her side. "Hey . . ." he responded, clearly perplexed.

"I, uh, saw you sitting over here alone. For most of the night it seems, and I was just wondering if you . . ." she trailed off then, and looked away in embarrassment, unsure of how to ask the enigma that was Kylo to _dance_ with her, wondering why on Earth she was bothering with asking him. He was a bit moody and awkward, sure. But if he wanted to dance, he would have done so by now. He might have been quiet, but he was a good looking guy is his own right and there were hundreds of girls at the dance hall that night. Kylo's decision to sit alone instead was a pretty clear sign that he didn't want to dance, yet here she was asking him anyway. She just _had_ to listen to Poe and make a fool out of herself.

As the silence between her and Kylo continued to drag, she felt the color rising to her cheeks in a rush of heat, but she forced herself to look at him and at least get the rest of the question out. As Rey turned back to Kylo, she was taken aback to find that instead of scorn or disgust, he was looking at her with an expression that she could only describe as _intrigued_. He gave her the faintest of smiles. "Want to dance?" he finished for her.

She beamed gratefully at him for finishing her sentence and opened her mouth to respond, but before she could, Hux and Jess arrived to the table, the latter hanging precariously on Hux's arm, and both giggling uncontrollably. They were drunk. Trailing behind them were two other nurses from their division. Rey didn't know them well, but they were notorious flirts.

One of them, a leggy blonde with more courage than she knew what to do with, stepped boldly up to the table. "'Dance?'" she asked, winking dramatically at Kylo, who was looking at her with shocked confusion. "I'd love to."

"Oh, don't bother with h- _him_ ," Jess slurred, at the blonde as she gestured toward Kylo. "He's about as much fun as . . . Phasma when she's _hungover_. And he'd sooner . . . crawl _naked_ through broken glass than dance with any of" _–hic-_ "us." Jess barely got the last word out before bursting into hysterical laughter along with Hux, her bouts of glee interspersed with tiny hiccups. Rey was suddenly very grateful that she had refused to partake in the shots Jess had offered her earlier.

"That's not true," Kylo mumbled, looking pointedly at Rey as he did so.

Rey blinked back at him confusedly, her heart hammering in her chest. "Is that so? _Great_ ," the blonde chimed in next to Rey. She stepped forward and grabbed Kylo by the front of his jacket, yanking him to his feet.

"Wait—," he protested, but Hux cut him off.

"Come on, mate. Be a sport and dance with the girl." He patted Kylo on the shoulder with finality before setting off toward the dancefloor, leading Jess by the hand.

The blonde trailed behind them, pulling a sulky Kylo along with her. He cast a disappointed look back at Rey as he went. She waved awkwardly at him once again, feeling a mixture of relief at having found a way out of the uncomfortable encounter, and wonder at Kylo's apparent willingness and even _eagerness_ to dance with her.

She was startled a moment later as Poe hugged her from behind, planting a kiss on the side of her neck as he'd done so many times before. But just like the first time, it sent a thrilling tingle through her from head to toe. "You're right. Kylo _is_ clearly crazy. Who would dance with that girl over _you?_ "

She spun around in his arms and gazedup into Poe's face. He looked down at her with tenderness shining in his espresso-colored eyes, his trademark crooked grin making her heart flutter. They were close enough that she could feel the warmth of his body against hers, and his grip on her waist had moved strategically lower. Rey could feel his heart pounding against her own chest. She took a shuddering breath, her mind clouding over with longing, and was reminded of her plans for the evening. Shoving any doubts or nerves to the side she stood up on her toes to whisper in his ear, "I want to be alone with you. Tonight. Now."

She stepped back to see that Poe was looking at her with an adorable mix of shock and desire. He gulped and merely nodded dumbly at her in response. She winked at him then, grabbing him by his tie and leading him out of the club, not bothering to say goodbye to the others as they went.

* * *

The walk to the hotel was hardly a walk at all. It was right next to the club. But it seemed like an eternity to Rey, who was beginning to feel very anxious about what she was going to do. She struggled to focus her booze-addled thoughts on what to say, how to act, what to physically _do._ As if sensing her inner turmoil, Poe squeezed her hand affectionately, smiling at her as they stepped up to the hotel entrance.

It was a grand structure, all gleaming glass windows and gold adornments. There was a revolving door out front and Rey felt amused and also a little queasy at the scores of military couples hurrying in and out, the imminent transfers and deployments causing romantic desperation among the ranks.

 _We're not like them_ , she reminded herself determinedly. She and Poe truly cared about one another. They had before they found out about the transfer and they still would in Hawaii. Whatever would happen that night wouldn't change that.

She took a steadying breath before leading Poe through the revolving doors and into the lobby. The floors were polished marble, and a catchy jazz tune could be heard throughout over the quiet hum of conversation from the hotel bar.

They strode over to the elevator, Rey feeling a bit too shy to look over at Poe as they waited for it to arrive. When it hit the lobby floor, the accompanying "ding" made her jump in alarm. Poe laid a reassuring hand on the small of her back as he guided her into the elevator. "You alright?" he asked softly when they were inside.

Rey leaned back against the mirrored wall of the elevator's interior and met his eyes. He, like her, was a little drunk. That much was clear. His face was flushed, and she had no doubt that like any other man would, he was anticipating the prospect of what was to come when they got to his room. But above all of that, he was looking at her with genuine concern and compassion, and she began to feel foolish for being so worried. This was Poe, after all. The man who had earned her trust and affection so completely in so short a time. She knew she was safe with him, knew she could tell him anything. So why worry about this? Sex, like anything else they did together, would doubtlessly be wonderful because it was _him_. He would take care of her, just like he always did.

"I'm fine," she answered, as they arrived at Poe's floor. She followed him out of the elevator and down the hall, where he came to a stop outside one of the rooms, fumbling through his pockets for the key.

A moment later they were inside, and Rey was pleased by the elegance and comfort within. The lamp was already switched on, illuminating the room in a soft, warm glow. The king-sized bed was made up with plush-looking gold bedding. There was a small sitting area and a bar, and a private restroom. It was simple, but clean and tastefully decorated.

Poe walked over to the sitting area and took off his hat and jacket, loosening his tie before tossing it on the couch. Unsure of how to proceed, Rey sat on the bed and worried at the buckles on her shoes. Her hands were shaking a bit, but she dismissed it and removed the shoes, relieved to stretch her feet outside the confines of the heels. She looked up to see Poe standing in front of her, studying her shaky hands with a frown.

He sat down on the bed next her and took her hand in both of his. "Rey," he began seriously, "We don't have to do anything you don't want to tonight. I don't expect anything. I've had one of the best nights of my life just _being_ with you-"

"I _do_ want to," she replied firmly. "I've um . . . I've given this a lot of thought."

"Y-you have?" he asked, his eyes wide in disbelief.

"Yes," she laughed. "Yes. Poe, I want thi-"

Before she could finish, his hands moved to her shoulders and he pulled her to him, his lips covering hers in a hungry kiss. She sighed against his mouth, melting into his embrace and knotting her fingers in his hair as she kissed him back in earnest.

He caught her bottom lip between his teeth, before trailing kisses away from her mouth to the sensitive spot on her neck that she loved. Rey had never seen Poe this aggressive, but she liked it. It made her feel powerful and sexy to have a man want her so, especially when she wanted him back—desperately.

As he planted a series of hot, wet kisses across her neck, Rey silently thanked Jess for talking her into wearing a dress with top to bottom buttons on the front. She disentangled her hands from Poe's hair and fumbled awkwardly with the top buttons. When he saw what she was doing, he chuckled at her clumsy hands and got to work on the buttons himself. She couldn't help but smile at his easy manner even now, all of her previous discomfort ebbing away as he pulled her dress open to reveal her lacy black bra—something she'd hesitantly purchased special for the evening.

Poe sat back for a moment, drinking in the sight of her, his warm eyes hazy with lust. "You are so goddamned beautiful," he breathed, dropping his head then and peppering her chest with kisses. Rey could feel a throbbing heat building inside her, and the clothing and small distance between them suddenly felt impossibly troublesome. She grabbed at the bottom of his shirt and struggled to pull it up. Poe sat back from her for only a moment to pull the shirt over his head before leaning in to kiss her again, his tongue pressing insistently into her open mouth.

She found herself wondering distractedly what that tongue might feel like _elsewhere_ as she lied back on the bed, grabbing him by his jingling dog tags and pulling him down over her. His hands found their way into the open dress and he ran his fingers lightly over her breasts. Even through the lace, his massaging movements felt wonderful and she arched her back, gasping at the sensation.

Poe made a small, pained sort of sound at her reaction and lowered his mouth back to her neck. Feeling his hands on her where they'd never been before, his mouth on her neck, his shirtless body poised over hers, it was everything she'd hoped it would be, but it wasn't enough. She felt mad with arousal, and if his own hardness against her leg was any indication, she sensed Poe was just as frustrated. Rey took him by the wrist then and guided his right hand lower, laying it between her thighs and shivering at the feel of his calloused palm against her skin.

She felt him exhale sharply against her neck, but he obliged all the same, stroking her gently over her underwear with an exquisite friction that elicited an involuntary moan from her lips. No sooner had the sound escaped but Poe withdrew his hand as though he'd been burned. He sat back suddenly, hastily attempting to pull Rey's dress closed over her chest and looking away from her.

"Poe . . . what? What's wrong?" she asked, perplexed and embarrassed and more than a little put out.

"I can't do this, Rey. Not now. It wouldn't be right." His voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke, sitting with his legs dangling off the side of the bed, staring at the floor.

Rey's mind raced with questions. Had she done something wrong? She wasn't sure. She had let herself go in the heat of the moment, and she wasn't experienced, after all. "Is it . . . me? Did I do something?"

" _No_ ," he responded immediately, turning back to her then. "No. Rey, you were perfect. You _are_ perfect. God, you have no idea how badly I want this. What I want to do to you right now."

She studied him then, his dark hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, his chiseled shoulders slumped in dismay. She wanted to make it better. And she still wanted _him_. "So show me," she said, her voice low and sultry. Mustering her courage, Rey crawled over to Poe and wrapped her arms around him from behind, kissing him lightly on the shoulder.

"I told you. I _can't_ ," he protested, shrugging away from her and standing up.

"But _why_ not?" she demanded, trying her best not to sound like a pouting child who just had their dessert taken away.

"Because I haven't been honest with you."

She sat back on her heels and stared at him. "What do you mean?"

"I'm leaving. I'm leaving and I can't do this with you right before I leave like everyone else does. It just . . . it's wrong. It's not how I want this to happen for us."

Rey felt relief wash over her and couldn't help but laugh. "Poe, we're all leaving. I'm going too. I told you. It's not a big deal. Now, come here." She reached for his hand but he pulled away sharply.

"No, Rey. I'm not going to Hawaii. I'm going to the front. I'm going to England."

Rey sucked in her breath and widened her eyes. That hadn't been what she was expecting. "But why? We aren't even at war. They . . . they can't make you. I won't _let_ them," she said fiercely.

"They aren't making me," Poe said, sitting down next to her. "I volunteered."

Rey felt like he'd knocked the wind out of her. She stared at the wall in shocked silence. For a few moments neither said a word. Poe was looking at her; she was vaguely aware of that. But she refused to look back at him for fear that the whole nightmare would become too real.

"You volunteered," she said finally. "You're leaving by choice. You're risking your life."

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because it's the right thing to do. I can make a difference. I can do something meaningful."

She faced him finally and saw the earnest look on his handsome young face. He really meant it, and as she stared back into his familiar brown eyes she reminded herself that this was who Poe was. She'd known all along how dedicated he was to the cause, that he was a true soldier through and through. But she also couldn't help feeling a little betrayed.

"This . . . _us_. That's not meaningful enough for you," she mumbled.

"That's not what I meant," he insisted. He moved to the floor and knelt in front of her, looking up at her pleadingly. "Rey, I _love_ you. God, I love you so much."

"I know," she replied instantly. How long had she wanted to hear those words from a man like Poe? Part of her was soaring at his confession, but her heart also broke at the circumstances that brought it out. She knew that her reply probably wasn't what he wanted to hear, but it was the first thing that came to her mind. If she was honest, she _did_ know. He showed her all the time that he loved her, and his decision to leave didn't change that. But his love didn't make the reality of his leaving any less painful, because she loved him, too. She'd been in love with him almost from the start, she realized. But something held her back from saying it.

"Um . . . right." Poe cleared his throat, recovering from her abrupt response. "Well, it's because of how much you mean to me that I'm doing this. I want to help stop this war. I want to make a better future for us. For you."

Rey felt tears welling in her eyes and blinked furiously to hold them back. She decided it wasn't worth wasting whatever time they had remaining before he left being angry. If something happened to him . . . _No_. She couldn't even entertain the thought. "I understand," she said simply.

"And that's . . . that's why I couldn't go through with this tonight, Rey. I don't want your first time to be something you just did because I was leaving, or because it's what everyone else was doing. We aren't like everyone else. When it happens, I want it to be perfect. And tonight has _been_ perfect. I don't want to ruin that."

"You couldn't ruin anything. The two of us . . . together. It would be beautiful. I know it," she said quietly, lowering herself to the ground and leaning toward him. Poe wrapped her up in his arms and held her there.

"You're right. And I want to have that to look forward to. I want to be thinking of having you to come home to when I'm over there. I love you, and that's worth waiting for," he whispered against her hair.

Rey could hold her tears back no longer and they rolled down her cheeks in inky black streaks. "Damn Jess and her mascara," she grumbled, wiping at her face with the back of her hand.

Poe chuckled lightly, producing a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbing at her face with it.

"When do you leave?" she asked after a moment.

"Well, about that . . . tomorrow."

"TOMORROW?!" Rey wrenched herself out of her arms in shock. "Poe, why did you wait to tell me? How could you _do_ this?" she demanded, her voice breaking with emotion.

"I only found out a couple of days ago," he said quickly. "And I wanted to wait because I just . . . I wanted us to be happy like we were tonight for as long as possible. I didn't want to spend my last days with you like . . . Well, like this," he said, gesturing at Rey's tear-stained face.

She said nothing, trying her best to remember to stay positive, especially knowing that she only had a few hours left with him.

"It'll be okay. I'll come back. I'll come back and we'll have the rest of our lives to spend together. This will only be a short bump in the road. I promise.

"And since I'm coming back," he went on, "I don't want to say goodbye. This isn't goodbye, okay? I'll bring you home tonight, and that's going to be hard enough, so do me a favor."

"Anything," she said instantly.

"Don't come and see me off tomorrow morning."

"Anything but _that_."

"I don't want it to be harder for either of us than it has to be. Rey, please. I don't know if I'm strong enough to leave you twice." She looked up to see tears glistening in his eyes and nodded her agreement.

* * *

Later that night Rey lingered on her doorstep, trying to prolong their last moments.

"You're sure you don't mind keeping BB for me?" Poe asked.

"Not at all. He'll keep me company and remind me of you."

"Thanks for the photo. And the book." he held up a small photograph of Rey that he'd asked for along with, much to her surprise, her favorite volume of E. E. Cummings poetry.

"Of course," she said, trying to stay strong. Their eyes met and Rey simply looked at him for a long moment, doing her best to memorize everything about the way he looked that night.

Poe cleared his throat loudly but refused to say goodbye, opting instead to hug her so tightly she could hardly breathe. When he released her, Rey tilted her face upward, pressing her lips roughly to his one more time.

He broke away after a moment and hurried down her sidewalk without another word. She watched him go until his form had vanished in the darkness, hoping desperately that the passionate kiss she'd just shared with the man she loved wouldn't be their last.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ **So I hope you liked that! Please let me know what you think! I had the worst writer's block of my life on this chapter and have rewritten it seriously what must be five times. Anyway, feedback welcome and look forward to more frequent updates because it's SUMMER! xoxo**


	6. She Loves Me

_**A/N:**_ **Hi! So sorry for being gone for . . . well, for most of the summer. I'd explain myself, but who likes excuses? Suffice it to say, life happened. But I'm back, and I hope I still have some readers. Hope you like this new chapter, because I'm a little rusty. Happy reading!**

* * *

Poe stood on the rail platform in the early morning, pulling his hat down over his eyes to shield them from the bright reflection of the rising sun bouncing off of the gleaming steam engine nearby. Ben was next to him, his expression somber and his shoulders hunched.

"Still can't believe they're not sending me with you," he remarked darkly, his eyes on the ground.

"They're saving you for the _real_ fighting," Poe insisted, clapping his friend on the back. But he was only half listening to Ben's slew of complaints. He focused intently on the bustling crowd of men and women preparing for departure that morning, looking for a sheen of brown hair. _She'll show_ , he thought desperately, glancing at his watch and noting with growing alarm that there were only five minutes remaining until he had to board the train that would take him to the boat—a big Navy vessel that would finally transport him to Britain.

Ben seemed to notice Poe's preoccupied demeanor, and he scoffed at him with the familiar, friendly indignation that Poe had come to expect from his friend. "If you wanted her to come so badly, why the hell did you tell her _not_ to?"

"Because. If she shows, if she just _can't_ keep herself away, then I'll know," he replied, turning to Ben with a sly grin.

"Know _what_?"

Poe sighed as if the answers to Ben's questions should have been obvious. "I'll know that she loves me back." He pulled his wallet out of the pocket of his overcoat and reverently removed Rey's photograph. She wasn't smiling toothily or laughing, her eyes weren't squinty with mirth the way he liked to see her—the way she was the most beautiful to him. But the picture showcased her beauty all the same. She looked straight into the camera with a combination of boldness and serenity that he knew was what made her such a good nurse. Her face was serious but her bright eyes smoldered even in black and white, and the graceful waves of her hair framed her lovely features.

Ben started to say something then but his words were drowned out by the deafening blow of the train's whistle, and a footman began calling loudly across the platform that anyone on the 0600 train had to board immediately. Poe hastily replaced the photo back into his wallet before casting one last, desperate glance around the station for Rey.

"Is there anything else you want me to give her?" Ben asked again when the whistle had stopped.

"No, just the key so she can pick up BB," Poe replied. "I guess this is it." He extended a hand to his friend, grateful that it held steady despite his growing anxiety about what was to come.

At first, Ben made to take his hand; but to Poe's great surprise, at the last moment Ben lurched forward instead and wrapped him in a tight hug, patting him stiffly on the back. It was over in an instant, Ben stepping away quickly and clearing his throat loudly. Even so, he knew that coming from surly old Ben, the gesture meant everything.

"I'll miss you, bud."

"Just come back safe," Ben replied gruffly, refusing to meet Poe's eyes.

"I always do," he said brightly. "But uh . . . look, if the worst—"

"Don't," Ben said immediately, cutting him off.

"Seriously," Poe said, holding a hand up. "If I _don't_ , I want you to be the one to tell Rey. Take care of her. It would be hard on her. She . . . she doesn't have many people she can turn to."

Ben made no reply, but finally looked up into Poe's face, his own expression unreadable.

"Promise me," Poe said urgently, the train whistle almost obscuring his speech with another blast, steam exploding across the platform and enveloping them both in a thick cloud.

"I promise." Ben's voice sounded odd and high-pitched. Poe nodded curtly in response before bending down to pick up his one, meager duffle bag of belongings. "Right, well. I'm off then. Don't do anything I wouldn't do," he said, winking at Ben in a last attempt to lighten the grim occasion. He got a half-hearted smile from Ben in response before turning on his heel and boarding the train.

The passenger car he chose was unnervingly quiet in contrast to the busy platform, and Poe found an empty compartment easily enough. There weren't that many men deploying that day. After all, they still weren't officially at war. He put his suitcase in the overhead bin and removed his hat and jacket, laying them across the empty seat beside him before fishing Rey's book out of the jacket pocket. He decided he might as well keep himself occupied on the ride to try and calm himself, even if her taste in reading was a little . . . odd. Admittedly he didn't know what to make of the supposedly great poets Rey loved, but it made him feel closer to her to read them. He liked imagining her as a dreamy teenager being swept away in the beauty of the words; never mind that a lot of those same words meant nothing when _he_ tried to read them.

He heard the exit doors seal shut as the whistle trilled again and another blast of steam issued from the engine. As he opened the weathered looking book, he stole one last look out the window to the platform where he saw Ben still standing sentinel, his hands jammed down into his pockets. He chuckled at the sight of his friend, touched by Ben's reluctance to leave until his train had departed.

Suddenly, Ben wheeled around, startled at something behind him. Poe stood up in surprise, the book dropping to the floor of the compartment as the train lurched forward and slowly began to accelerate. Ben had turned presumably at the sound of Rey shouting his name. Poe felt a surge of happiness at the sight of her, dashing madly toward the train, sprinting barefoot through the station with her shoes clasped in her hand. She wore a powder blue dress that whipped behind her as she ran, her pretty face frantic as she noticed the train begin to move. _She came_ , he thought to himself with relief, pressing his face against the window.

It was too late, he knew, as the train pulled away before Rey could get anyway near his platform. But it was enough. She had come.

Another pilot came strolling down the corridor of the passenger car then, sticking his head into Poe's open compartment. "Mind if I join?"

Poe just nodded distractedly in response as the man deposited his suitcase overhead and seated himself on the bench across from him. "She loves me," he said giddily, nodding at the man before pointing at Rey's tiny form. As the train got further away, he could just make her out, standing helplessly on the edge of the platform, her hands balled into furious fists. Her shoes had been dropped somewhere far behind. Poe chuckled at the sight of her there, proud to see that despite it all she wasn't crying. His strong girl. He would make it back to her somehow.

* * *

 _Guess I won't be getting that back_ , Ben thought as Rey blew her nose into his handkerchief with impressive force, emitting a loud honking sound that seemed at odds with her short stature and delicate frame.

"Sorry," she said with a rueful smile. Rey lowered the soiled cloth from her reddening face, raising her warm eyes to his nervously.

He swallowed uncomfortably, glancing away from her contrite look. He hated when she looked at him like that—like she was _afraid_ of him. He knew that he'd been cold to her over the past weeks, that he'd brushed off her attempts at friendly small talk and was short with her in conversation. So it was no wonder that she walked on eggshells around him, as if at any moment he'd snap on her again.

But he also knew that he'd been trying to change that. Ever since Ben had noticed how serious Poe was about her, he'd tried to be kinder to Rey, and she had made it surprisingly easy. She smiled often and listened well. Over the past few days he'd begun to feel foolish for ever treating her as he had. It wasn't her fault that Poe was leaving, wasn't even her fault that Poe had all but disappeared from Ben's life for the last month. Poe was a grown man. It was his choice to spend all of his time with Rey. She wasn't forcing him, but Ben had been taking his anxiety about losing Poe out on _her_.

For all that, she'd accepted his recent, clumsy attempts at kindness without question, had even asked him to _dance_ with her the night before. Ben didn't dance. He hated dancing. But for some reason when Rey had appeared at his side, striking with her red dress and brilliant smile, he hadn't even considered refusing her. He'd almost felt angry when he'd been dragged off to dance with someone else instead.

Today Rey looked nothing like the starry-eyed girl that Poe had twirled around the dancefloor only hours before. She'd come tearing along the platform with dark circles under her eyes and her shoes in her hands, heedless of the crowds, of the rough wooden boards making a ruin of her bare feet. She'd blown past Ben and pursued Poe's train only to realize she was too late.

He'd been impressed by her calm as she watched the train disappear on the horizon. Her back was to him but her posture was strong and she stood silent for what felt like a long time. Ben had toyed with the idea of going over to her. Poe had asked him to look after her, and he wanted to be sure that she was alright. But after starting to her and turning back three times, he'd decided to sit on the nearby bench and wait for her to be finished . . . well, finished doing whatever it was she was doing over there. Brooding. Ben Solo wrote the book on brooding, but he felt surprisingly impatient when it was someone else doing the sulking and staring.

When Rey had finally gathered her senses and her discarded shoes from the ground, she walked over to Ben and sat next to him wordlessly. He'd cleared his throat into the silence before cautiously attempting to reassure her. "Poe's going to be fine, you know? He's the best pilot I've ever seen. He'll come back."

Rey had been silent for a moment, staring at the ground. Or maybe at her feet. Ben followed her eyes and noticed with alarm that her right foot was bleeding, a tiny puddle forming beneath it. He'd opened his mouth to ask her if she was okay, but Rey spoke first. "How do you know?" she'd asked him then, her normally musical voice oddly dull and monotone.

"Um, what?" Ben was confused, distracted by Rey's apparent obliviousness to her injured foot.

"How do you know," she'd repeated in the same unnervingly lifeless tone. "How do you know that he'll come back?"

Ben had tried to imagine what she wanted to hear. He _didn't_ know that Poe would return. He was probably just as worried as Rey was. But he couldn't tell her that. Not then. Not when she looked so uncharacteristically fragile.

"Well, because he uh . . . he loves you. He loves you, Rey. He'll come back to be with you." His ears had reddened in embarrassment the moment the words had left his lips. What had possessed him to go with _that_? It was too intimate, too personal. And he and Rey simply weren't in a place to talk about that sort of thing.

But Rey hadn't seemed to notice Ben's own humiliation. He had tried to offer words of encouragement but something in them had struck the wrong chord with her, and her façade of strength crumbled in an instant. She burst into tears, shaking with sobs.

She'd been trying to say something, he'd realized, but her words were lost in a blubbery mess. Ben had no idea what to do. He wasn't used to consoling people. Poe was the understanding one. Finn was the one who made people laugh. Hux was the one to tell you to suck it up. But Ben didn't know how to do any of these. He would probably be the one in need of consolation, if he was honest with himself. So he stared at Rey in panic until she turned to him, eyes streaming and nose dripping. That's when it had occurred to him to offer his handkerchief.

She dangled that same handkerchief in front of him now, trying to return it. Ben forced a polite smile to his face. "You can keep that," he said, finally, trying hard not to act disgusted at the thought of everything she'd just coughed and sneezed and blown into it.

Rey nodded gratefully, stowing the hanky unceremoniously down the front of her dress. "Thanks," she said quietly. She leaned down and picked up her shoes from the platform floor and then stood to leave. But the moment she put weight on her still-bleeding right foot, Ben heard her gasp in pain.

He leapt quickly to his feet as Rey's knees buckled, stepping forward and catching her in his arms as she fell. Ben held her tightly, careful to support her weight, to protect her wounded foot. As he turned back to the bench a look of awareness flashed crossed Rey's face, her pain forgotten and replaced with embarrassment at her moment of weakness. She struggled in his grip, surprisingly strong. "Put me down," she insisted. "I'm fine."

"No. You're not," Ben snapped, ignoring her indignant pout and thrashing limbs. He lifted her easily even further off the ground, lent assistance by his height, as he set her back on the bench and knelt at her feet.

He brought his face closer, attempting to get a better look at her foot, but Rey wasn't having it. "I _said_ I'm fine," she growled, yanking her feet away and tucking her knees up under her chin.

Ben sighed in exasperation, massaging his forehead with his hands as he tried to keep his temper in check. "Rey," he began slowly. "You're not fine. You're bleeding everywhere." He gestured to his uniform pants, spattered with shiny patches of blood.

Rey looked down at Ben and the bloodied platform floor around him, chewing her lip as she mulled it over. "Fine," she relented, extending her right leg toward him hesitantly.

Ben gently took her foot in his hands, noticing immediately the shard of glass protruding from the sole. He examined it more closely to see how deep it was, but Rey flinched in pain, yanking her foot away. "Be careful!" she exclaimed angrily.

He couldn't help but chuckle. "For a nurse, you're not a very cooperative patient," he observed, raising his eyebrows at her.

Rey stared at him in surprise for a moment. "Still, not as difficult as _you_ ," she retorted, her face breaking into a wide grin. The sight warmed him and Ben felt himself returning her smile.

Rey crossed her legs and rested the ankle of her injured foot on her other thigh, leaning over to assess the damage. "It isn't deep," she reported thoughtfully. "It can be pulled out without causing too much more bleeding."

Ben nodded, making to stand; but Rey raised her hand to stop him. "I'm going to need _you_ to pull it out. _Carefully_." She stuck her foot in his face then, regarding him apprehensively from her perch on the bench.

 _She's so bossy_ , Ben thought. She reminded him a little of himself. Calling out instructions like that, crossing her arms stubbornly. Still, he obeyed without a word, taking her foot into his lap. The skin of her legs was smooth and dotted with freckles from the sun. She wasn't wearing nylons, which Ben thought was a little odd. But then again, Rey wasn't really like the other women he'd known. Not that there'd been many of them to begin with.

"Ahem," she said pointedly, rousing him from his thoughts and wiggling her toes at him. "Can we get on with it, please?"

"Are you always this demanding?" Ben quirked an eyebrow at Rey who merely nodded in response. He knew it was best to just get it over with, but was worried she'd squirm again. That might lead to him accidentally bumping the glass and pushing it deeper, or cutting her with it once it was out.

Ben recalled his mother tending to his dad after one of his countless drunken accidents, icing swellings, cleaning out cuts. She'd done her fair share of putting Ben back together when he'd hurt himself playing, too, and she always tried to take his mind off of it before she did something that really hurt, like stitches. His mom insisted that it was best to distract people from pain. Ben decided to put that theory to the test now. "Rey?" he asked, positioning his thumb and forefinger around the glass shard.

"Yes?"

"Your feet smell."

"Excuse me?! No they don—OW!" she shrieked, lurching away in pain as Ben removed the glass.

He smirked at her, holding up the offending object. Its jagged edges shone in the morning sunlight.

"Hmph. Thanks," she said, eyeing him warily. "But my feet smell lovely."

"Like roses, I'm sure," Ben agreed, getting to his feet and dusting off his pants. "That needs to be cleaned and bandaged before you try and walk on it." He nodded to Rey's foot as she moved to put her shoes back on, her face contorting in pain when she tried the right one.

"I'm a nurse. I live with a nurse. We've got it covered."

"True enough. But you have to _get_ home first. How did you get here?"

"Ran." She shrugged at Ben's shocked expression, as though running barefoot through the streets was a perfectly normal mode of transportation.

"Well, at least let me help you get home. Poe'd kill me if he knew I let you walk around on an open wound."

"It's not up to you or Poe to _let_ me do anything," Rey fired back. She was standing now, holding her hurt foot off the ground and reaching out with her hand toward the bench for support. She hesitantly hopped a few steps before turning back and smirking proudly at Ben. "See? I've got this."

He shook his head at her and sighed in exasperation before walking over to Rey. "Here. Lean on me. At least take a taxi back to base with me."

Rey looked at him uncertainly for a moment, then down at her now-swelling foot. "Okay." She hopped a step closer to Ben and reached up to try and put her right arm around his shoulders, but the height difference made it difficult.

He stooped over a bit and Rey finally found purchase, gripping his shoulder as she pressed her weight against him. Ben wrapped an arm around her waist, and started guiding her down the platform in the direction of the station exit. Rey was silent now, concentrating on maneuvering around one-legged. The flesh of her arm was warm against the back of his neck, and he could smell the faint, flowery scent of what he guessed must be her perfume. Ben realized he'd never been this close to her before. It was unexpectedly distracting.

After a grueling journey through the station and a short taxi ride back to Mitchell Airfield, Ben helped Rey to her doorstep, where they were greeted by a very concerned Natalie.

"Ah, Kylo. One hour with _you_ and she's all busted and bleeding. Are you always this unpleasant?" Ben knew that Natalie was only half joking. He scowled as the redhead stepped forward to support Rey, who giggled at the sour look on his face.

"Don't be so hard on him Natalie," she scolded playfully. "Kylo actually helped me out."

Natalie shook her head. "Clearly you're delirious from blood loss."

Ben fiddled awkwardly with his hands shoved into his pockets. He was focused, refusing to take Natalie's bait and get angry. While he fidgeted his fingers brushed against something cold in his pocket and he remembered Poe's request. "Oh, Rey. I almost forgot. Poe asked me to give you this. So you can go and pick up BB. Though with your injury, I could go and get him for you if you—"

"She'll be quite alright, thanks," Natalie cut in, reaching for the key in Ben's hand. "Rey, you need to rest. Goodbye, Kylo."

"Uh, yeah. Bye Natalie, Rey." He handed Natalie the key and nodded a farewell to Rey, silently agreeing with Natalie that she did appear to need rest. Her usually bright eyes looked dull and haggard.

"I suppose we'll see you in Hawaii." She smiled kindly at him before Natalie guided her inside the house and closed the door. Ben had tried to smile back, to confirm that, yes, he'd see them soon. But he was distracted by the thought that while Natalie noticeably perked up at the mention of their transfer to Pearl Harbor, Rey, like him, seemed less than thrilled.

They were moving somewhere beautiful, a place many people dreamed of visiting. They were lucky enough to all be transferred together, a whole group of friends. They had every reason to be excited about their new assignment, but it didn't feel like the adventure he'd expected. As Ben set off down the sidewalk toward his own quarters, it occurred to him that he couldn't remember the last time that he had done anything without his best friend by his side.

* * *

England wasn't for him, Poe decided, cursing to himself as he stepped in yet another freezing puddle. The weather back home had been sunny and pleasant, but he'd been traveling across England for days and had seen nothing but grey skies and wet streets. He'd been dropped off outside a small northern village and was now being led on foot by a local farmer to the air force base that was supposedly situated just a few minutes away.

Poe knew they had to be getting close by of the roar of engines as several planes flew over their heads, both coming and going. But what perplexed him was that the area looked nothing like the airfields from back home. They were walking down a dirt road, the village behind them had been nearly deserted, and ahead he saw only trees and fields. Where were the grand hangars? The endless rows of barracks? Where were the long and well-paved runways? Britain's Royal Air Force was legendary. He was expecting something to match that reputation.

As they broke through the last clump of trees, he was greeted by an unexpected sight. A large and picturesque English estate house stood on the other side of a vast acreage of property. The imposing structure was enormous, countless rooms with beautiful Victorian architecture. Out front, the gravel lane looped around elegant statues of women holding pitchers of water over an inactive fountain. It was obviously the seat of some noble lord. But instead of a stately lawn, the grassy field in front of the house was absolutely _packed_ with soldiers, planes, trucks, and tents. They were shoved in from the beginning of the tree line all the way back to the gravel lane that passed in front of the house for vehicles.

There were no military buildings, no runways, nothing. It occurred to Poe that this was the only safe and as-of-yet-undamaged place that these men could establish as a base. The war had encroached onto British soil enough to have the military operating out of someone's front yard. Luckily, Poe was good at adapting. _Skywalker said they needed help_ , he reminded himself. _If things weren't bad, they wouldn't need us. I'm here for a reason._ He rallied himself and tried to keep his face impassive as a tired-looking British officer strode over to greet them. He nodded his thanks to the villager who'd led the way before turning to the man under whose command he'd be working. At a height with Poe, the officer was of average build with dark, thinning hair, thick, grey stubble, and kind blue eyes. He had deeps worry lines in his face and a cigarette hanging out of his mouth, but for all that he still painted a commanding picture in his uniform, adorned with a dizzying array of commendations on his chest.

"Don't know how they convinced you to come all this way, but it's a bloody miracle you've agreed," the officer began, extending a hand to Poe. "Major Browning," he announced.

"Lieutenant Dameron," Poe replied, smiling warmly and returning Browning's firm handshake.

"We've heard a lot about you, Dameron," Browning said, eyeing him curiously. "Follow me."

Poe set off after the older man through the makeshift base, bustling with activity. Everywhere he looked men were cleaning weapons, drawing plans, servicing planes. As they got further through the encampment, he tried not to look at the grisly sight of a few dozen wounded men that were laid out on tarps near the house, being tended by a handful of overwhelmed looking nurses. He saw a man without a leg screaming in horror at the bloody stump while a young nurse in a heavily stained apron tried her best to quiet him. To Poe's left and his right, stretching as far as he could see there were wounded men lying about on the ground. Everything was brown with mud or red with blood. He swallowed.

Browning showed him over to the side of the house in a slightly more open area where three rows of fighter planes stood, parked neatly on the mown grass. A few pilots were working on the planes, and Poe noticed some actually getting strapped in and ready to fly out. If the sounds of combat and flying overhead were any indication, the fighting wasn't far off.

"This one'll be yours," Browning announced, patting a dark green plane that had a rather indecent image of a blonde woman painted near the nose.

Poe smirked at it before moving forward to examine the plane more carefully. "Thanks—" he started, but stopped short as he stepped up to the cockpit. The glass around the pilot's seat was shattered and spattered with blood and . . . something that was suspiciously similar to what Poe could only guess _brain_ _matter_ might look like. He felt his breakfast lurching unpleasantly in his stomach but struggled to keep a brave face. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Browning watching him.

"Aye, this plane was Lieutenant Harding's. Good lad, that. Well, he _was_."

Poe wasn't sure what to say. He just stared at Browning, who was looking off into the distance, lost in thought. Before he could think of an adequate response, a British pilot appeared behind Browning, his expression solemn. "Reporting in, sir," the man announced. _No,_ Poe thought _. He's not a man. He's just a kid._ The pilot looked like a teenager, and he was shaking slightly even as he stood at attention before his superior officer.

"Report," Browning ordered curtly.

"We eliminated all six of the targets in their squadron, sir."

"Excellent work, Davies," Browning said, the corners of his mouth tugging upward with approval. But then something seemed to occur to him that stole the smile from his voice. "Why are you delivering this report? Where's Red?"

The pilot called Davies dropped his head. "He fell, sir. They all did. The Krauts got everyone . . . except me."

Poe was shocked. All but one man in a squadron killed just to take out a small German force? "Damn them. They're not making this very easy for us, are they, Davies?" It unsettled Poe how casually Browning accepted the bad news.

"No, sir." Davies' voice broke on the second word. Browning just sighed.

"At ease, soldier. We're going to get those bastards for this."

Davies nodded before saluting hastily and setting off back into the heart of the encampment. Browning turned back to Poe, apparently forgetting the horrifying revelation of moments before. "Well, best get settled in, yeah? You'll be fighting the Krauts with us in the morning. Your tent's over that way with the other Yanks." He gestured off behind Poe, who turned to see a battered American flag thrown over a tent in the distance.

He cleared his throat, struggling to get his bearings. It seemed that losing _most_ of their men assigned to a mission was a commonplace occurrence here. Browning was already back to business, and clearly expected Poe to follow suit. "Um, yeah. Yes, sir." He gave Browning his best salute. The major returned it before setting off to inspect the work the pilots were doing on the other planes nearby.

At the small grouping of American tents, Poe introduced himself to his fellow countrymen who'd come overseas to fight the Germans, but their faces were a blur. He decided after what he'd just witnessed that he wasn't ready to get to know these men. Not yet. Not when they could all be gone on the morrow. But then, he realized, that meant that _he_ could be gone, too.

As he settled down in his tent and unpacked his few belongings, his eyes fell on the fresh stack of paper he'd brought along. He promised to write to Rey the moment he was settled into the base, both to alert her to his safe arrival and give her an address where she could write to him herself. He laid out his thin bedroll and sat down with a sigh. Poe smoothed out a piece of paper over his lap and rummaged through his bag for a pen. Once he'd gathered his supplies, though, he felt at a loss for what to write. Of what he'd seen so far that day, there was nothing about his experiences that he wanted Rey to know.

It wasn't that he was frightened. On the contrary, he felt now more than ever that he _needed_ to be here. But for all his courage, he hadn't been prepared for even the small taste of the realities of war that he'd been exposed to that day. Strong or not, he knew that telling Rey these things would only upset her. No, he would keep his letters light. His feelings would be sincere, and that was what mattered. Protecting her from some of the more gruesome details couldn't hurt. He began his letter, struggling with every word to maintain the illusion that everything was fine.

However grim it seemed, though, Poe felt eager to face whatever the next day would bring. Thinking back on all he'd witnessed so far only solidified his resolve. _Yes,_ he thought, remembering Skywalker's description of the situation here in England. _They need help alright_.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ **Feedback keeps me aliiiive. Love you guys.**


	7. She's Beautiful

"I need cover! Christ, I need cov—"

There was a great boom followed by deafening static in Poe's ears when Lieutenant Davies' comms went dark. He held his breath as a cloud of black smoke billowed from Davies' plane, visible through the clouds at twelve o'clock. The plane's nose dipped toward the ground and angry red flames erupted in the cockpit as the aircraft began to drop rapidly out of sight. _Three. That's the third guy to die today. Well, third one of_ our _guys_. Poe's mouth was bone dry, a stark contrast to his sweating brow. He could feel his heart pounding rapidly in his chest and it was becoming difficult for him to breathe normally, but he forced himself to remain calm. He could do this. He could outfly anyone, even if his partners had not been so lucky.

Poe didn't have time to think about the men they'd just lost. He couldn't think about how young Davies had been—a kid. He couldn't think about how scared he'd been, how abundantly clear it was that the boy had never been cut out for this in the first place. No, he couldn't afford to have such thoughts. Not now.

So after the briefest glance at his fallen comrade's doomed aircraft, Poe focused on the German pilot who'd just taken Davies down. The dark enemy plane had been moving stealthily, unpredictably. The white cross logo on the back end of it got closer and closer to Poe and he realized that the German pilot was slowing, attempting to flank _him_ now. In his rearview he noticed that the three other remaining German planes were gaining on him and getting into formation. He was in a precarious position.

Of the six men in their squadron that morning, only Poe and two others remained. He looked to his right and nodded at his fellow pilot, RAF Squadron Leader Snap Wexley. "Wexley, you ready to try that maneuver we were talking about yester—"

"Roger that, Dameron," Wexley cut in immediately. "Let's make these bastards pay. Muva, form up." Wexley's commanding voice betrayed not a hint of nervousness as he hailed the other lieutenant.

"Roger." Poe could see Oddy Muva to Wexley's right, flying just ahead. The quiet pilot made up for all of the bravery and tact that poor Davies had lacked. Poe felt good about their chances.

He looked at the photograph of Rey that he'd taped up amongst his dash controls. Her eyes were as striking as ever, serene and grounding. With a deep, steadying breath, Poe felt his hands meld to the yoke, attuned himself to the responses of his plane, and gave himself over to the adrenaline of the fight.

* * *

Rey hated gauze. It had seemed like an innocuous thing before—white, soft, simple. But since she'd been in Hawaii she'd rolled and stocked what must have been thousands of sheets of the stuff. And for what?

There wasn't much need of it—or any other medical supply for that matter—as far as she could tell. Pearl Harbor seemed as safe and peaceful as New York had been, maybe even _safer_. The only patients they'd seen in the hospital had been soldiers nursing a hangover or suffering from a cold due to the abrupt change in climate post-transfer.

The slow days at work wreaked havoc on Rey's restless mind. She craved distraction—anything to keep her from thinking of Poe. She needed busy days with back-to-back patients, examinations, and procedures. Instead, she and the other girls spent hours stocking and organizing everything from bedsheets to surgical tools to the damned _gauze_ , and then simply sat around. The final hours of her shifts for the last few weeks had been filled with nothing but idle gossip. The quiet monotony was driving her mad.

But the other girls didn't seem to mind. Here in Pearl Harbor, the nurses were even more outnumbered by Navy and Air Force men than they had been on the mainland. The sunny, laid back environment seemed to lend itself to romance, and love was in the air. Well, for everyone except Rey.

"Last night, he showed up at my front door with a bottle of wine and a blanket and took me out by the water. I'm telling you, I never knew he had _this_ side to him," Jess gestured to her neck as she spoke. Folding down the collar on her nurse's coat, she revealed a vivid purple hickey to the circle of listening girls who burst into giggles at the sight of it.

"Well of course, honey," Natalie returned, nodding seriously. "We redheads all got a little freak in us."

Jess snorted in response and waved her hand dismissively at Natalie's statement. "Still," Natalie went on. "You and Hux. I never would have thought. He bores me."

"He's _not_ boring. He's just serious. Maybe he's a little quiet, I guess. He doesn't speak unless he's got something to say. And when he does, he's . . . intense. I love it." Jess sighed wistfully, finishing another gauze roll and securing it with a piece of tape.

"I could see that." Natalie cocked her head to the side thoughtfully. "To think, you used to be hung up on that awful Kylo. Hux is a much better choice, hon." She patted Jess on the back as if to congratulate her on her improved taste in men.

Rey wasn't sure why, but the statement irked her. She looked up from her work to see Nat and Jess both scowling at one another in horror at the notion that Jess had ever found Kylo attractive. But what had once seemed unthinkable to Rey now made sense. Jess might have been better off with Kylo after all. She thought back to gentle but commanding man who'd tended to her on the rail platform back in New York. Had it really been a month ago?

Kylo was even quieter than Hux, and far moodier. But she'd seen a tenderness in him that day that she'd never witnessed in the arrogance of Armitage Hux. Then again, she was probably just being defensive because Kylo was Poe's closest friend, the one Poe loved best. She felt a natural, loyal inclination to protect him because it was what Poe would have done, what Poe had apparently been doing for his whole life.

"Give Kylo a break, won't you?" she said quietly. Nat and Jess's laughter stopped short and the girls turned toward Rey in surprise.

"Not this again," Nat said, her voice tinged with frustration. She turned to Jess and sighed dramatically. "Rey's been best friends with Kylo ever since he fixed her busted foot the day Poe left."

"I'd hardly call us best friends," Rey snapped. "I've barely seen him since that day. I just think you two should lay off a bit."

Jess's face softened. She laid down her work and stepped over to Rey. "I'm sorry, Rey. It's just that he's not the easiest person to get along with. When we're with the guys he doesn't even talk to us. He's always in a poor mood, you know?" Jess laid her hand over Rey's in a gesture of comfort.

"A poor mood, is it? Well some of us might have good reason to be in low spirits lately, don't you think?" She ripped her hand away from Jess and began filling a nearby box with the gauze and bandages she was unpacking, rolling, and folding.

"Rey, wait. I'm sorry." Jess reached for Rey's forearm but she brushed her off, lifting the box as she walked briskly toward the adjoining room.

"It's fine. I'm going to work in storage. I need some quiet."

"Rey!" She heard the concern in Natalie's exclamation but ignored her, passing out of the sun-filled patient holding room and into the nurse's lounge. A cluster of tables and chairs filled the small room. It was windowless aside from the small window situated in the exit door. To her right was the door leading into the storeroom.

Rey was surprised to see that the normally-crowded lounge was empty this early in the morning. One of the tables held a radio which was playing a Cole Porter song at low volume. After a moment's consideration Rey decided to work in here rather than the dreary storeroom. It was quiet enough, with nothing but Porter's baritone and the birds outdoors to keep her company.

Rey set her box down on the nearest table, noticing that day's newspaper on it as she did so. She felt her chest tighten with anxiety. News had taken on a whole other significance now that Poe was overseas fighting. She'd been interested in the possibility of war before, but now the stakes were higher. Rey ordinarily read the paper every morning, first thing. But today she'd been running late after yet another sleepless night, fraught with nightmares of Poe's demise. She'd had to sprint out of the house that morning to make her shift on time, and her own paper was left sitting on her sidewalk, forgotten.

She shoved the box of medical tools away impatiently to make room as she unfolded the newspaper on the table, hurriedly taking a seat. The headline made her dizzy with fear but she swallowed hard and read on.

"DEATH TOLL ON THE RISE AS GERMAN AIR STRIKES PRESS FURTHER INTO BRITAIN"

Underneath the headline there was a large photograph of a village laid waste. One of the buildings had been decimated completely—not by a bomb, but by a crashed RAF fighter plane.

Rey clinched her fists to keep her hands from shaking. She refused to let her imagination get the best of her. This didn't mean Poe had been hurt. Logically, she knew that if something had happened, she would have been notified before the newspaper. After taking a calming breath she began to read the story.

"Tensions are high in England today after yet another devastating air raid. The German Blitz continues to bombard London as well as several surrounding cities and towns.

"While authorities have been vigilant in their efforts to preemptively alert citizens and evacuate them to bomb shelters, inclement weather and thick fog have given the Germans the element of surprise in recent attacks this week.

"With dozens of homes and businesses destroyed and hundreds of civilians killed or injured, the Royal Air Force has been under tremendous pressure to answer hostility with hostility. But the Nazi flyers are proving a challenge, and the British military, already depleted after numerous deployments to the French front as part of the British Expeditionary Force, are finding themselves outnumbered and outgunned.

"Many here at home and abroad believe it's only a matter of time before the United States offers aid to our oldest allies. While Roosevelt's administration is still reluctant to declare war, this reporter has it on good authority that several intrepid American pilots have volunteered their skills to help eliminate the Nazi threat from Europe.

"But at what cost do these brave men answer the call to arms? When will America send her sons to aid their countrymen and allies across the sea? Only time will tell."

Rey sighed. As usual, there was nothing in the paper to ease her mind. She tried to convince herself that there was no way that Poe was one of those RAF casualties. He was safe. He had to be. And wherever he was, she was willing to bet that Poe would have gotten a kick of out the article. "Intrepid American pilot." "Brave man." Rey couldn't help but smile. The last thing he needed was an ego boost.

One way or another, Rey was hopeful that she'd receive news from Poe today. While she had written him at least twice a week since his departure, he had replied once a week—exactly three times. Rey had so far received all of these letters on Fridays. Today was Friday. She reassured herself with the notion that there would be a letter from him waiting in their brightly-painted mailbox when she got home from work that afternoon.

This also meant that she would spend her evening writing a reply. While her friends usually went out with the officers on Friday nights, Rey had spent hers inside the quaint military housing cottage that she shared with Natalie and Jess. Phasma had told them they'd be getting another roommate soon. But for now, Natalie had a room to herself while Rey and Jess shared one. Ordinarily, Rey liked the company of her two closest friends. But on Friday evenings the solitude allowed her to write without the prying eyes of the other girls. It was one of her favorite parts of the week.

Any other time that she tried to write, it was nearly impossible for her to do so in peace. Rey knew that her friends meant well, but the constant worried glances and the way they spoke to her in those over-sweet voices made her feel like a beaten puppy. She knew her recent somber mood was out of character; her friends had never seen her so preoccupied. Rey had always been fiercely independent. Her upbringing hadn't left her much of a choice. She didn't like relying on others, because doing so had never worked out for her in the past. This extended to her relationships with men. She'd always made it a point not to get too attached. Rey had never been found waiting by the phone for a boy, never crying into her pillow over a betrayal. But she knew that fretting over whether or not a guy liked her was quite a different from wondering whether the man she loved was alive or dead.

Of course, her friends didn't understand this. How could they? Their boyfriends were a ten-minute walk away. The biggest threat to their safety involved getting too much sun over the weekend on the North Shore. While Rey thrashed around in bed, kept awake by nightmares, Jess was down on the beach pinned under Hux, the happy recipient of unsightly love marks on her neck. When Rey was struggling with the wording in her bi-weekly letters to send to Poe thousands of miles away, Natalie was worrying over how to sneak out of Finn's barracks unnoticed, giggling and half-drunk from their adventures the night before.

Rey was disturbed from her thoughts by a beam of brilliant Hawaiian sunshine as the lounge's exit door swung open, whining on its hinges. Phasma entered, her tall frame dominating the small room, her short blonde hair tousled by the island wind.

"Kenobi," she acknowledged, inclining her head at Rey in greeting. Her eyes scanned the newspaper open before Rey and her face fell.

"Oh, Rey—"

"I'm fine," she interrupted quickly. "Really."

Phasma smiled sadly at the younger woman for a moment before nodding. "Very well. I've just come from Skywalker's office. There are no more new recruits to clear for combat until next week. I think we can adjourn for the day a tad early. You, uh, look like you could use a bit of rest."

Rey scoffed but didn't argue. She folded the newspaper and tucked it under her arm. "Lieutenant," she saluted Phasma quickly, grabbing her bag off of a nearby chair and slinging it over her shoulder before heading out the way the head nurse had come.

Arriving at her house, Rey walked up to the mailbox with her heart in her throat. She opened it tentatively, holding her breath in anticipation of what might be inside.

Empty.

 _It's okay,_ she repeated to herself over and over, walking up her front steps in a daze. She opened the screen door before turning the key in the front door lock. BB waited on the other side, jumping up and down and barking excitedly. Normally, the little dog's presence warmed her heart, but today it was all she could do not to cry at the sight of Poe's beloved pet, blissfully ignorant of his owner's plight.

Reaching down to scratch behind BB's ears, Rey realized that for the first time since they'd moved to Oahu, she'd walked home without Jess and Nat. She'd never felt more alone.

* * *

"Come _on_ , man! You can't stay cooped up in here like a damned hermit anymore. It's _weird_ ," Finn announced. He tightened his grip on Ben's arm and pulled harder.

"Actually, people have several different ways of dealing with anxiety." Hux was already standing in the open doorway lighting a cigarette.

Ben felt unexpected gratitude. Hux didn't ordinarily come to his defense at times like this. He shook free of Finn's grasp and backed away indignantly. "Thanks, Hux. I—"

"But this method is undeniably detrimental to your health." Hux exhaled a cloud of smoke as he finished, shrugging apologetically when Ben glared daggers at him.

"This means _nothing_ ," Finn said with feeling, picking up that day's newsprint from the table behind Ben. "Poe's too good to be taken down by a couple of _Nazis_!"

Ben made no reply, staring determinedly at the wall in front of him.

"Well we've no way of actually knowing that," Hux observed matter-of-factly. Finn promptly balled up the offending newsprint and threw at forcefully at Hux's face. Hux ducked just in time, the ball of paper whizzing over his sheen of red hair and out the front door.

"Exactly," Ben agreed, gesturing at Hux. "I've only gotten one letter from him. It was two weeks ago."

"Oh for Christ's sake," Finn scrubbed his palm over his face in frustration. "You can't expect the man to be writing you love notes every day when he's over there fighting for his life."

"Hm, 'love notes' . . ." Hux took another puff from his cigarette before holding it out the open door and tapping it lightly, the ashes falling into a little pile on the front stoop.

"Well, what are you on about over there?" Finn demanded, turning to Hux.

"I'll bet he's written more than one letter to Rey. She may even have gotten one today. Clear this whole business right up just by talking to her, can't we?" He turned to Ben and Finn with a triumphant grin.

It was the first time Ben had even considered accompanying them. Finn and Hux were walking over to collect Natalie and Jess to bring them to the outdoor cinema at Waikiki Beach. Some horror film. _Really just an opportunity for them all to feel one another up in public_ , Ben thought with dismay. The last thing he wanted to do with his Friday evening was to be the fifth wheel on Finn's and Hux's dates. He knew Rey wouldn't join them at the cinema, and he wasn't going to stay at her house after asking about Poe. The outing meant an evening of suffering through a silly movie just for a quick update about Poe on the way there.

Still, the thought of news about his friend, and receiving that news from Rey . . . it gave him a glimmer of hope, of happiness. He hadn't felt much of that recently. He'd only seen Rey a time or two in passing in the month they'd spent in Hawaii. She hadn't been at any of their group outings since they'd arrived. He imagined that like him, Rey had spent the past few weeks worrying about Poe.

They were all friends, of course. It would be selfish and wrong to assume that Finn and Hux weren't also thinking of their friend. But Ben felt like Rey was the only one who truly knew what he was going through. They were the ones closest to Poe, the ones who stood to lose the most if he . . . fell. Ben suspected that Rey was feeling just as alone as he was. Maybe he owed it not just to himself, but to her as well, to join Finn and Hux that night.

He looked up at Finn who stood over his bed, staring down at him expectantly. "Well?!"

"Fine. I'll come."

"Terrific," Hux said in a bored voice. "Can we get a move on then?"

* * *

"Hiya, boys," Natalie greeted them enthusiastically, standing up on the tips of her toes to receive a quick kiss from Finn. She took a step back into the house and waved them all inside, giving Ben a puzzled smile as he walked past.

Ben saw Jess standing with her back to them in the kitchenette, mixing up what he assumed to be cocktails for them all. "You're going to need a heavier pour for mine. I'm no lightweight like your friend Red in there." Hux hugged Jess from behind before pointing at Natalie with a teasing smirk.

"What can I say? I'm a cheap date," Natalie shrugged, nestling closer to Finn who had taken up residence next to her on the coach.

"I'll fix your drink right away, sir!" Jess turned to Hux and gave him the most sarcastic and exaggerated salute Ben had ever seen before picking up a nearly full bottle of rum from the counter and pressing it against Hux's chest. "Strong enough for you?"

"Hm. Nearly," Hux rubbed his chin thoughtfully, his dry sense of humor never wavering for a moment. "But I think you'll need to save some for your guests."

"Right. Nat, Finn? Care for a drink? This is fresh from this morning." Jess held up a pitcher of bright yellow liquid that Ben surmised must have been fresh pineapple juice. He felt out of place and honestly a bit thirsty. He decided a drink was exactly what he needed.

"Um, I'll take one," he muttered from the corner, clearing his throat into the silence that followed his request. Jess looked up, apparently noticing him for the first time.

"Oh, goodie. He's graced us with his presence." She set down the pitcher and turned to Hux, her hands coming to rest on her hips in an attitude that Ben had come to recognize as a signal of an impending outburst from the fiery girl. "You know, I think we're going to get more than our fill of Frankenstein's monster at the cinema tonight. Why is he here?"

Hux sighed, placing his hands on her shoulders and looking straight into her eyes. "Jess, relax. He's been worried about Poe. He wanted to come along and ask Rey if-"

"You know, you oughtta stop being sour at Kylo just because he rejected you," Finn interjected unhelpfully. Natalie burst into a fit of nervous giggles that she failed to hide behind her hand and Jess wheeled on Finn with murder in her dark eyes.

" _Rejected_ me? You don't know the first thing about it, you moronic, wisecracking . . . _ass_ hole!" She strained against Hux's hold on her forearm as if she would pounce on Finn at any moment. For his part, he sat calmly next to Natalie with his arms folded, facing Jess down with a mocking smile on his lips.

Their conflict was interrupted when Rey appeared unexpectedly, making her way down the hallway that led to their bedrooms with BB cradled in her arms. "Ask me if I what?" Ben turned at the soft sound of her voice. She looked haggard, unrested. Her hair was disheveled and she was still in her nurse uniform. It was very wrinkled. Ben noticed the dark circles under her eyes as she leveled him with an unflinching stare. "Ask me if I what?" she repeated, her ordinarily musical voice toneless and dull.

"I think I have a pretty good idea what he's here to talk to her about," Jess began, shaking Hux off and stepping toward Rey. She laid a hand protectively on her friend's tiny shoulder. "I don't think it's a good idea. Kylo dredging up all of these worries isn't going to do her any favors. I think you should go." She was facing Ben now, her face so stern it almost made him laugh.

He didn't know what to do. He stood in confused silence, trying not to meet Rey's eyes, but they bored into him insistently until he returned her gaze. The pain reflected in the caramel-colored orbs almost knocked the wind out of him. He felt a kinship with that pain. He decided he wasn't going anywhere, and opened his mouth to say as much when Rey beat him to the punch.

"I can decide what conversations are and aren't appropriate for me, Jess." She shifted BB to one arm and gave her friend's hand a reassuring squeeze. "Kylo, we can talk here." Rey nodded at Ben before setting BB down on the carpet and taking a seat at the kitchen table.

Ben smiled gratefully and pulled a chair out next to her. Before he could sit, Jess materialized beside him and glared forcefully at Rey. "We're going to be late for our movie if we don't leave now, and I'm not leaving the two of you here sulk yourselves to death. It's not good for you."

Natalie squealed excitedly from the couch. "Rey, looks like you're coming to the movies!"

"Excellent. She can protect you when you're frightened, Nat," Hux announced.

"That's my job," Finn protested. He laid his arm nonchalantly over Natalie's shoulders.

"Yes, and I'm sure you can do it well hiding your own face in your jacket like you did when we saw that Dracula film last year." Hux finished pouring himself what appeared to be a very stiff drink. He winked at Finn before sipping it innocently.

Finn predictably erupted in indignation but Ben wasn't paying attention to them anymore. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Rey looking more and more tired and disinterested by the second. But he needed to talk to her. He was running out of time and patience. "Fine. We'll come if it will shut you up, the lot of you," he snapped.

Rey looked up at him and for a moment he thought she would protest. But she nodded weakly instead. He tried to offer her a grateful smile but she was already staring in another direction, lost in thought.

As she stood slowly and said a dismal goodbye to BB, Ben realized he was lucky to be getting her out of the house at all. She certainly didn't seem very inclined to a long conversation. He wondered if they would even be able to broach the subject of Poe's silence. For the moment anyway, it seemed very unlikely.

The others filed out of the door, chattering and laughing. Rey followed silently, pulling her hair into a bun to keep it out of her face in the beachy winds. Ben watched her, noticed that the usual sheen of her chestnut hair was somewhat diminished, that her normally immaculate nails were chipping varnish.

She was so different. So quiet, almost meek. That was never a word he would have associated with her before. The sight of her like that unsettled him somehow. He felt a peculiar urge to reach over and pull her close, wrap her in a comforting hug. She certainly seemed to need one.

But no. That would be strange, untoward. Too familiar.

Ben sighed, failing to mask the concern that was apparent by his knitted brows and the stolen glances he kept casting at Rey. She was a mess. It seemed to be a good thing he'd come along after all.

* * *

Rey felt better than she had in weeks. The wind whipping through her hair was almost chilly without the sun to warm her, and it was invigorating and refreshing. The thick fabric of her uniform suddenly felt very restrictive. She wanted to feel the wind against her skin. She decided to take it off. She would only dirty it sitting in the damp sand anyway.

Underneath she wore a camisole slip dress that was more than a little revealing on its own. But they were on the beach, after all. Some of the moviegoers were still in their swimsuits from earlier that afternoon. Surely her dress wouldn't draw much attention.

She unbuttoned her uniform and shrugged out of it, folding it once over and then laying it over her arm as they walked down the shoreline. Jess looked at her oddly. "Rey, when I said I wanted you to have fun, I didn't mean you had to strip to your nightie in public."

"Just getting comfortable," she replied. She broke away from Jess's scrutiny and moved closer to the water, eager to feel the cool tide against her feet. Kylo was near the ocean, too, staring straight ahead and walking a few paces behind the others.

Rey fell in step beside him, sighing contentedly. She was glad that he'd convinced her to come. This was the only social gathering she'd been to in at least a month, and it was a good one.

The moon was full and appeared somehow larger here than it had back home. Its reflection on the water was an awe-inspiring sight, the giant silver sphere lighting up the beach with an ethereal glow. The smell of the sea air and the pleasant give of the sand beneath her toes relaxed her.

They were coming up on the outdoor cinema now. An enormous white tarp had been erected between two poles that usually held a volleyball net aloft. Tonight, they supported the projector screen. The film projector was set up a few dozen feet back, projecting the movie title and the starting time onto the screen, a bright beacon in the otherwise darkened beach.

The audience had already begun forming, people sprawled out on blankets and beach towels. Jess laid out a large quilt in the sand and set a picnic basket onto it. It was a big quilt but it barely accommodated everyone. Rey sat between Kylo and Nat, crossing her legs and settling in comfortably.

Jess opened the basket to reveal a canteen and some glasses. As she portioned out the contents the sweet smell of rum and fruit juice wafted over to Rey in the ocean breeze. _Great. They're all going to get piss drunk._ She sighed. The thought of drinking _was_ tempting; after all, it would probably get her mind off of her worries for at least a little while. But Rey worried that it could have the opposite effect, that she could drink _too_ much and fall into a dark melancholy, sullying the evening for everyone.

Jess handed out the glasses one by one, and when she waved Rey's in front of her face, Rey hesitated for only a moment before taking it. The chilled liquid had cooled the glass, condensation already forming on the outside. The cold against her fingers was inviting, luring her to drink the refreshing contents and wash her troubles away.

She stared down into the glass for a moment before looking over at Kylo out of the corner of her eye. He had set his own drink to the side and was looking up at the screen. The film was starting. Rey shrugged at no one in particular before bringing the glass to her lips, relishing the burn of the rum as it slid down her throat.

* * *

The movie was a bust. Not that Ben had expected much from a _Frankenstein_ sequel, but it really didn't have much in the way of a plot, and the overacting that seemed to accompany horror films made his stomach churn. The others had seemed mildly entertained at outset, but after the first half-hour and a couple of drinks, Hux and Jess had hurried away into the darkness of the sand dunes seeking privacy. Natalie and Finn had snuggled up together on the blanket beside them and Finn had promptly fallen asleep. Natalie followed not long after.

So Ben was left with Rey, who he thought ordinarily would have found such a movie to be dull and uninteresting. But in the hour since the movie had begun, Rey had consumed three of Jess's famous rum cocktails, and she was staring, enraptured, at the screen. The film was at its climax, Frankenstein's creature and his grisly bride cornering their victims. Rey's eyes were wide with fear and wonder, and she was leaning so far forward that Ben thought she might tip over.

The monster on-screen turned a corner and surprised the woman hiding from him, and the music suddenly increased in volume to accompany the scare, hitting an alarming note that reverberated through the audience on the beach even amidst the sound of the crashing waves. Rey shrieked, spilling her drink down the front of her dress and turning toward Ben in alarm, clutching his arm desperately.

He chuckled in spite of himself. "I can't believe you're actually scared of this nonsense," he teased, peering down at Rey who was hiding her face against his upper arm.

She pulled back a bit and peaked at him sheepishly. "You must be really brave _not_ to be afraid of it." Her voice was barely audible over the eerie music playing with the film, and the roar of the ocean nearby. Ben leaned in closer to hear her better but stopped when his eyes fell on Rey's dress. The front of the thin, white slip dress had been completely saturated with the spilled beverage. The material was now plastered to her body and was mostly translucent. He could clearly see the delicate flesh-colored lace of Rey's bra against her pale skin, and she seemed completely unaware of this fact as she gazed up at him.

"Um, Rey," he began awkwardly, picking up her forgotten uniform from the sand behind her.

"What?" she asked, genuinely confused.

"Here," Ben said gently, handing her the uniform before gesturing quickly at her chest. He turned his face away in embarrassment, but he could feel the flush burning his cheeks. Rey set her empty glass down looked at the front of her dress in dismay. She shook her head at her own clumsiness before shrugging into the uniform.

"Thanks," she mumbled grumpily, standing. She dusted away at the sand bits that had inevitably found their way onto the quilt and her legs before turning and walking away unsteadily.

"Wait!" Ben called, scrambling to his feet and following her. "Rey, what's wrong?" He reached for her arm as she stumbled through the sandy terrain but she pulled away fiercely, whirling on him with a storm brewing in her eyes.

"Just let me go, please! I'm acting like a fool. I-I drank too much _again,_ " she stammered. Ben could see the tears forming in her eyes. He took a breath and was about to stop her but she continued. _"_ I knew this would happen. It's why I should have stayed home, why I _always_ stay home now. But I just . . . I couldn't be alone with my thoughts tonight." Her voice broke on the last word, a powerful sob escaping her full lips as she turned her back to him.

She looked incredibly small then, standing next to the water, silhouetted against the brilliant light from the moon's reflection, her small shoulders shaking. She seemed fragile next to the greatness of the ocean, the sounds of her crying carried away on the sea breeze. It tore Ben's heart in two to see her like this, and every cell in his body cried out to him to comfort her in some way, but he didn't know how. So he stood next to her on the beach, the wind tossing his hair around his eyes. He hoped that his presence alone might offer her some small modicum of reassurance that at the very least she wasn't alone.

After a moment she seemed to collect herself somewhat, turning back to him with a sigh. She stood up straighter and looked him in the eye before looking down at herself. She hadn't bothered to button up her uniform and in the open gap her rum-soaked dress was still visible. "This is pitiful," she declared, shaking her head. "Poe would be ashamed of me. I'm supposed to be strong for him. He's the one who has real problems, over in a place like that. And I can't even hold it together here. You must think I'm an idiot."

"Not at all-" Ben started, but she went on as if she hadn't heard him.

"I know he's only been gone a month. I know that isn't a very long time. But that's not why I'm so upset."

Ben was silent, waiting for her to continue. He jammed his hands down into the pockets of his pants to avoid reaching out and laying a reassuring hand on her shoulder.

"I haven't heard from him since last Friday, and I always get a letter from him on Fridays. Today, no letter came. And . . . and then the _news_." She didn't finish her thought, but didn't need to. Ben had seen it as well. What Rey had said was what he'd been dreading to hear. He had hoped that the night would bring word of Poe's safety and wellbeing. Instead his worries were reflected in Rey, and there was good reason to be worried.

But he didn't tell her so. Poe had asked him to take care of Rey, and feeding her anxiety wasn't the way to do it. For as long as Ben could remember, Poe had taken care of _him_. He had stood up to bullies for him, let Ben sleep over in his small bedroom when fights with his father were at their worst. He had helped Ben talk to girls and motivated him to get in shape and put on some muscle to join the Air Force. Hell, Poe had basically taught him to fly.

Now, it was Ben's turn. Rey was the thing that Poe held dearest and Ben was going to protect her and be the strong one for once. She had friends, but they didn't understand what she was feeling and she _needed_ someone who did.

It only took one step with Ben's long, lanky stride to close the distance between them and wrap Rey in a hug. At first he felt her stiffen in his embrace—clearly she hadn't been expecting it. But after only a moment she slumped against him, pressing her face to his chest. She wrapped her arms around him, her sobs shaking them both, her tears warm against his skin as they bled through his shirt.

"Sshh," he softly quieted her, stroking his hand down her back. "It's alright, Rey. I'm worried for him, too. We all are. But he's safe. I know it. I trust in that. He promised to come back, and he will."

"I love him, you know," she said shakily, her voice muffled against him. "I love him and I was too stupid to say anything. What if I'm too late? What if I didn't ever get a chance to say it?"

"Don't talk like that," Ben replied seriously. He grabbed her firmly by the shoulders and stepped back so he could see her, looking down into her face. "You will get to tell him, and he'll be so happy, Rey. Wait for that. Hang on to that."

She smiled weakly and nodded, reaching up with both hands to wipe at the tears on her cheeks. Some of her hair had come loose from her bun in the wind and strands were sticking to her damp face. Her eyes were puffy. Through it all, an uninvited thought crept into the recesses of Ben's mind.

 _She's beautiful_.

He shook his head viciously as if he could dislodge the offensive notion from his brain. It didn't matter _what_ Rey was because she was the love of his best friend's life, and she needed help. "Come on," he said to her with a cheerfulness he didn't feel. "You need to get some rest."

* * *

The sunlight was blinding in its brightness and it seemed to exacerbate her already throbbing headache. Rey groaned loudly and turned over, facing the wall and pulling the covers up over her head. At her feet, BB stood up, stretching and yawning before walking up near her head and sniffing inquisitively. He was clearly ready to get up, but Rey wasn't sure she could manage it.

She couldn't remember the last time she had been truly hungover. It had probably been years ago, when she used to drink with her friends in secret when Unkar Plutt was away on business. Back then they would sneak cheap wine and drink themselves into a giggly haze at sleepovers. The next day she would sometimes feel thirsty and achy. This was infinitely worse.

Her head pounded like she'd been hit with a crowbar the night before. Now that she thought about it, that wasn't wholly impossible. Her memory of the previous night was patchy at best, but she did know that she'd wound up crying and acting like a fool, and that Kylo had talked Nat into walking her home before the film was even finished. She supposed she must have been irritating him quite a bit, which was no surprise. Considering the state she was in, she must have been sloppily drunk the night before. Her hair was matted and her dress was sticky and stained.

She craved a shower and maybe a swim in the ocean to clear her head. Dragging herself out of bed, Rey trudged out of her room and into the living room. BB bounded lightly ahead of her, his tail wagging. She envied his boisterous energy but couldn't even fathom matching it. Judging by the sunlight that she could see through the sliding glass doors that led to their backyard, it was nearly noon, but to Rey it felt like the crack of dawn. The house appeared to be empty. She supposed Jess and Nat must have gone to lunch.

Her mouth was so parched and dry that even swallowing hurt, so Rey moved to the kitchen to make herself a glass of water and feed BB. But when she stepped into the room she saw an envelope and a piece of paper sitting in the middle of the kitchen table. The envelope looked familiar, and Rey strode over to it with her heart in her throat. BB trotting behind her, his claws clicking on the tile.

A note was hastily scrawled on the paper that accompanied the envelope, written in an unfamiliar hand.

 _Rey,_

This arrived for you yesterday but was left in my box instead by mistake. I didn't see it until late in the night and didn't want to disturb you. I brought it over first thing today, but Jess said you aren't feeling well. Hope it brings some good news, and sorry you didn't get it from me sooner!

 _Aya_

Aya was their neighbor one house over. She was a navy nurse and a Hawaii native, sharing her military housing with a couple of other nurses Rey hadn't met yet. Rey had mistaken Aya for Jess one day, as both women had long, black hair that they wore in braids to work. Rey's mistake had led to an awkward introduction and the beginning of a quick friendship. She was glad of that now, wondering what might have become of her letter if Aya hadn't known who Rey was.

Setting the note aside, Rey reached down and picked up BB, setting the little terrier into her lap for support. He curled up against her lovingly as though sensing her apprehension. She lifted the letter with shaky hands. Rey knew that the letter's existence alone could be a good sign, but some nagging part of her still worried at the contents. After carefully ripping open the envelope, Rey unfolded the letter on the table before her and began to read.

* * *

 _ **A/N**_ **: I hope the posting of this chapter finds you all well! Hope you enjoy 3**


	8. Hot Curlers and Cold Water

_Dear Rey,_

 _In my past letters I've made an effort to stay positive for both our sakes. I don't want you wasting your time worrying about me when you could be enjoying yourself in the sun and getting into trouble with Jess and Nat._

 _I also refused to let my own spirits sink. Hope is one of the only things that keeps people going around here, and it's in short supply. I stay chipper because it keeps the whole squad happy. But keeping up that façade around my men is tiring, so for better or for worse, I'm going to talk to_ you _about it. Well, not "talk," write. You know what I mean._

 _What I'm trying to say is that things here have been different from what I expected. Don't get me wrong, I didn't think this would be some walk in the park. But it's darker and more dangerous than I imagined._

 _It's not always bad because my squad is excellent—the Rapier Squadron—but we aren't close like I am with the Black Squadron boys back home._

 _"Back home" . . . I guess the Black Squadron isn't back home, really. New York isn't home for any of us anymore. But if I'm honest, that doesn't matter. Wherever YOU are is home to me now. The one thing keeping me going is the thought of coming home to you. The fact that that home happens to be in a beautiful island paradise now is just a side perk._

 _But where I am? This place could never be home. I thought winters in New York were bad, but here it's ALWAYS grey. I think maybe your smile is the only thing on Earth that could warm this place up._

 _Okay, that was a bad line even for me. But I miss you, so cut me a break._

 _The guys here help sometimes. They're a fun bunch and I've almost gone broke losing to them at cards. Two in my squad are volunteer recruits like me. The Brits think we're mad for coming by choice. I tell them why I really came—to impress a pretty girl. Always seems I can break the ice with that one._

 _Aside from the jokes, the guys here don't get too chummy. At first I thought it was because I'm American, but they're the same with each other. They don't get too close because then it's harder when they lose someone. They lost a lot of good guys out here, more than I ever realized, more than I ever thought possible. It really gets to me sometimes._

 _But I don't want to scare you._

 _I thought of not telling you about the bad stuff. Then I thought about the fact that you're the smartest, strongest woman I know, and I realized you can take it. You_ need _to know, to understand why I had to be here, why it's worth it even though I miss you like hell._

 _I think I took for granted how good we had it back home. Things are_ grim _here, but I'm actually helping. I need to help them win here so that the bad doesn't have a chance to_ get _back home. We can keep America from joining the war. From what I've seen of this war, it would be best for us to stay out—something I never thought I'd say._

 _Back in New York, I couldn't wait to get here, I couldn't wait for the chance to prove myself. I know Kylo and the others felt the same. But I was naïve. This isn't glorious—it's horrifying._

 _But now that I'm here, I'm glad that Skywalker sent me, because they need all the help they can get. I've never seen dogfights like the ones we get into with the Germans. Granted, I've never been in a real dogfight before. But this is unlike anything we've studied. These pilots are ruthless, savage even. Worst of all, they're brilliant. Precise. They kill with clinical efficiency. We can't let them expand their attacks further, and we can't bring our own boys hear to face them._

 _I'm not going to let that happen. I want things back home to stay the way I remember them with you. I want America to be the kind of peaceful place where you and I can drink too much champagne and dance to Cole Porter in the middle of the day like we did on that picnic back at Mitchell._

 _Everything I'm doing, I'm doing it for us. I'm creating a future where you never have to be afraid, where we can live the kind of life you deserve. The night I told you I was coming here, when you cried . . . seeing you like that was worse than anything I've faced here. I am going to make sure you never have to be scared like that again._

 _So despite all the blood and the death and the sadness here, I'm getting through it because I'm driven. Whenever I feel any doubt or fear, I just think about you, Rey. I think about your strength and poise, about what you've been through trying to make it on your own without any family. I know that I'll make it back to you so that you never face loss like that again. You give me the courage to keep fighting. And when I'm down, I imagine what it will be like someday soon to step off a plane in Hawaii and kiss you senseless._

 _I hope you're well. Thank you for your letters. They comfort me more than you know._

 _I love you Rey. So much. Now and always._

 _Yours,_

 _Poe_

* * *

Poe's letter had lifted Rey's spirits considerably. The dark bits had given her pause, of course. But more than anything the letter renewed her faith in Poe's safety. He had already faced so much, and he was still standing. Clearly, he was well-suited for the work he was doing.

After his impassioned declarations, after hearing about the things he'd been through, Rey suddenly felt silly for being so emotional and unpredictable in the past weeks. Poe was in a life-or-death situation and was staying strong, and she had been drinking like a lush and crying in public. She felt ashamed. So she set out to change things.

She took BB on daily walks along the beach each morning, threw her effort into her shifts at work, and cleaned the cottage spotless when she got home most nights. Rey hadn't exactly been known for her cleanliness in the past so it was a bit of an adjustment, but keeping busy kept her mind from going to dark places, and the change in her demeanor had finally brought an end to the ceaseless questions about her wellbeing from Jess, Nat, and the others.

As the week drew to a close, Rey felt more positive than she had in over a month. She'd been away from Poe long enough now to be more used to his absence, no longer catching herself looking for his familiar figure walking along with the other pilots, no longer feeling her throat clench at the sight of BB—a constant reminder of his even more lovable owner.

So that Friday morning Rey awoke with a smile on her face and a spring in her step. The Hawaiian climate had baked her complexion to a lovely gold and drawn out more freckles across her nose. She had taken to wearing the lipstick Jess had loaned her the night of the dance for the servicemen, and the bold red made her feel older, braver. As she stood admiring her reflection in the mirror, Rey felt a genuine smile stretch across her cheeks. It was going to be a good day.

At breakfast Nat chattered on about a new nurse she'd befriended practicing sutures on a bananas. Rey tried to focus on Nat's words but she was preoccupied by the sight of BB chasing Jess around the kitchen, yapping joyously as he nipped at her robe. It trailed the ground carelessly while Jess bustled about, cleaning her dishes furiously.

It was no wonder that she was in a rush. Rey and Nat were already dressed and ready for work, but Jess had gotten in late. She and Hux had been out for the entire night before, and Jess had only gotten to bed as the first morning light began dusting the mountaintops.

"Phasma's going to have your _ass_ for breakfast," Nat observed, stabbing a sausage link and bringing it idly to her mouth. She watched Jess with amusement, shaking her head affectionately at her friend.

"Only if her ass actually makes it to the clinic," Rey reminded teasingly.

Jess groaned in exasperation and threw her hands up. "Fine! You two do my dishes then," she snapped, and stormed out of the kitchen, her robe billowing up dramatically in her wake.

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of Hux's bed," Nat said seriously, sending Rey into a fit of laughter as she set to washing up after Jess.

Awhile later, Rey and Nat were almost to the clinic, walking arm-in-arm and enjoying the morning breeze. It was as temperate a morning as Rey had seen on the island, the sun smiling down on them and warming her skin in the most delicious way. It would have been an exceptionally peaceful and enjoyable commute to work if not for Jess, who sprinted up to them all of the sudden, her cheeks flushed with exertion, her breath coming in great gasps. She blew past the other two girls and started off down the sidewalk in a huff, but Rey and Nat didn't follow.

"Well?" she demanded, looking back at them over her shoulder expectantly. Her fingers curled around the handle of the clinic's front door. "Aren't you coming?"

Rey snorted and Nat doubled over in giggles. It was only when Jess turned away from them, shaking her head in confusion that she caught her reflection in the window and shrieked, mortified. She still had her bright yellow curlers in her hair.

After they'd helped a hysterical Jess remove the curlers from her dark locks, their shift had been wholly uneventful, as usual. They'd made it to work on time, thankfully avoiding one of Phasma's infamous lectures on the importance of punctuality. After an arduous day of errands, they met up with the boys at a surf bar on the beach.

Rey had sworn off drink after her rather embarrassing evening at the movies the week prior, and she happily nursed her pineapple juice while the others toasted to the weekend. It was a winning sunset, the purples and oranges on the horizon creating a truly breathtaking palette. She sighed contentedly, stroking BB in her lap.

"Lucky dog," a voice said from behind her, and Rey turned to find Kylo smiling warmly at her, his black eyes crinkling pleasantly around the the edges at the sight of her. He had combed his unruly black hair into a neat military style-a look she almost never saw him sporting-and had abandoned his uniform for a simple cotton shirt and linen pants.

Rey had shared the good news of Poe's safety with Kylo almost immediately after reading the letter. It had only felt right after the way she'd behaved that night. She had not seen much of Kylo since then, but if his appearance now was an indicator, he, like Rey, was starting to adjust better to Poe's deployment. He looked different—healthy and (dare she think it?) happy.

An enormous Samoan man, decorated with an assortment of tattoos and smoking a fragrant cigarette, struck up a lively tune on his ukulele then, and Nat vaulted from her seat on the barstool beside Rey. She lifted BB out of Rey's arms and unceremoniously thrust him at Kylo. "Here," she announced simply, before taking Rey's hands in hers and dragging her out into an open patch of sand near the ukulele player.

"Nat—" Rey started to protest, laughing. But it was useless, the redhead was already dancing feverishly, an exuberant smile reaching all the way to her bright green eyes. Rey gave herself over to it then, the jovial music, Nat's contagious laughter, the smell of the hibiscus flowers blooming nearby. It was a lovely evening.

She imagined Poe enjoying his own Friday evening, dismissing the nagging voice that told her it wasn't really evening in England. He should have received her reply letter by now. Maybe he had just read it and was relaxing with friends of his own. Maybe he was having a rare dry patch in the temperamental English weather. She pictured him happy, heard his familiar voice cracking jokes, and envisioned his handsome grin, his hair falling across his brown eyes. To confirm it all, she knew she'd get another letter from him soon, detailing the latest hijinks of the British flyboys and the heart-stopping stories of his death-defying feats against the Germans.

She needed to believe that, to believe that if she allowed herself to stop feeling awful that it meant Poe was feeling good, too, wherever he was. _Yes_ , she decided, as she felt the comforting touch of Nat's hand in hers while they danced, heard Finn's rich, deep laughter from the bar, as her eyes met Kylo's in the retreating light; _everything is going to be alright, after all_.

* * *

 _Dear Poe,_

 _I can't decide who misses you more—me or BB. Sometimes he sits out on the back porch of our little cottage and just stares out at the ocean. I imagine he's thinking about you. I know that sounds silly, but I mean it. He's a smart one under all the cuteness, a lot like you._

 _I wish I had more to report here, but things have been very quiet. Work is going well. Since I seem to be the only nurse in the place who isn't distracted by some devious pilot luring her out of her shift early, Phasma has promoted me to her second-in-command._

 _It's a bit meaningless, as the only patients we have are pilots with colds, hangovers, or jellyfish stings, but it's something._

 _I've been reading a bit at work to keep the boredom at bay. I hope you're reading that book of poetry I sent you. I expect a full report the next time we see each other! I don't really have anyone to discuss it with around here._

 _Speaking of the others, Jess and Nat send their love. It might surprise you to hear this, but Jess and Hux are still together! I think it might be the real thing._

 _Nat and Finn are as in love as ever. If I was a betting girl I'd say they might tie the knot soon._

 _I think you'll be most shocked to learn that I've struck up quite an enjoyable friendship with your best bud. Yes, that's right-I've managed to thaw the soul of the ever-surly Kylo Ren._

 _I'm not proud to admit it, but I drank a bit too much when I got emotional waiting for your last letter, and Kylo actually talked me down from something of a breakdown. I guess you were right about him all along. I feel a bit bad for giving you hard time about being so good to him, since it seems he's a decent man after all._

 _Still, all the friends in the world can't replace having you here. Everything somehow manages to remind me of you, and I just wish you could come back. It does get lonely being surrounded by so many couples and being in such a naturally romantic and beautiful place. I know that you're doing meaningful work there, though, and I am happy to wait for you, Poe. As long as it takes._

 _I miss you._

 _Love,_

 _Rey_

 _P. S. Without being utterly lewd, I just want to say that the very moment you get back I intend to finish what we started the night of the big dance in Manhattan. I've thought about it more than I'm proud to admit since that evening. You're cruel for leaving me so hot and bothered, Dameron._

Poe shook his head at that last bit. _Wicked woman_ , he thought, chuckling. Rey was one-of-a-kind. He vowed to write her back as soon as he bested Wexley at their customary game of cards.

The older pilot sighed at Poe over the makeshift card table they'd set up in their tent using an empty ammo crate, the action sending a cloud of smoke wafting out of his mouth. He was puffing on a thick cigar, and in the close quarters of the tent, the scent was nearly choking Poe. But he ignored it. It was warm in the tent, and dry. Wexley was the closest thing Poe had found to a friend out there. The cigar was the least of his worries.

"You've got to be running out of money to bet with, Dameron. What are you going to put down next, that jacket off your back?" Wexley raised a brow quizzically at Poe before laying down another good hand of cards.

"I've had this old thing for as long as I can remember. It was my dad's. I'll be buried in this damned jacket," Poe assured him, taking a deep drink of his beer as he eyed Wexley.

"Hm. Then I'm sorry to be taking it from you," Wexley replied, gesturing again to his cards.

"Not on your life," Poe grinned, showing his own hand—a flush. Wexley's mouth fell open in shock, the reeking cigar falling out of his mouth.

"'On my life,' huh?" Wexley mused, retrieving his cigar. "Best not to make jokes like that around here, kid."

They both chuckled as Poe scraped his winnings from the overturned crate into his rucksack, the coins and bills falling in an untidy pile. "It's been a pleasure taking your money this evening, Wexley."

"More like winning some of your _own_ back." There was the slightest tinge of disappointment in his squad leader's voice, but Poe knew it was just the poker and the liquor talking. Wexley really was a good man.

"Maybe my luck is finally changing," Poe offered with a smile.

"Let's hope not. It's that luck of yours that has helped us survive a dozen air strikes in the last two weeks."

"True enough," Poe agreed, suddenly solemn. He hoped that Wexley missed the almost imperceptible shudder that had just passed over him. The last two weeks had been trying, and that was putting it mildly.

The constant death and suffering that surrounded Poe of late put his future in perspective. He'd been toying around with an idea for awhile, and he realized then that there was no reason to put it off any longer. Fighting against the wave of troubling memories his conversation with Wexley brought bubbling to the surface, Poe thanked his captain for the game and left the tent to find some privacy.

It was early evening, too early for dinner to be served, so the collection of rickety picnic tables that served as the mess hall was nearly empty. Poe seated himself comfortably and fished inside his jacket for the folded up stationery he'd brought with him from his bunk.

He needed to reply to Rey's letter, but he also had another purpose for writing her, something special. Poe laid out his paper and readied his pen, but found that the words he sought eluded him. He sat back thoughtfully, sighing in frustration. His eyes fell on a familiar figure striding toward him in the murky twilight. It was Browning.

Poe smiled up at his superior officer as the man strode over. He made to get up and salute the man but Browning waved his hand dismissively. "No need for that, Dameron. It's I who should be saluting _you_. That flying of yours is nothing short of a miracle. We're lucky to have you."

"I'm glad to be here, sir," Poe returned, trying to hide the swell of pride he felt at Browning's words.

"Glad, eh? Are you so eager to get yourself killed?" Browning asked, his brow creased in confusion as he studied Poe like a specimen under a microscope. Poe was used to this—the effect his decision to volunteer had on the British. They were almost always perplexed at why he would want to leave his home and fly across the ocean to face almost certain death. But that wasn't how Poe saw it, of course.

"Not to die, sir, no," Poe assured him. "To make a difference. To do something that matters."

Browning was silent for a moment, his face unreadable.

"Well, Dameron, you're succeeding at that. If the other Yanks have even half of your grit and skill, we could win this war in a week."

Poe smiled up at him but made no reply. It was high praise, and he wasn't sure how to respond.

Browning cleared his throat into the silence and lowered his eyes to the paper on the table in front of Poe. "Writing another letter? Who are you always writing to, Dameron? Your mom, some girl?"

" _The_ girl, sir. The one," Poe replied smoothly.

"Found her already, have you? We should all be so lucky."

"Lucky," Poe repeated thoughtfully. "That's the second time I've been called lucky today."

"Let's hope that luck doesn't run out." Browning patted the table to signal his departure, nodding at Poe before walking away to some unknown task.

Poe smiled. _Yes, let's hope_.

* * *

Snap Wexley paced back in forth in front of the line of pilots gathered in front of him, his hands clasped behind his back. He was repeating the instructions for the operation they were about to carry out. Poe's eyes followed his squad leader's movements, but his mind was elsewhere. He was thinking about the last operation they'd run. Two squadrons had coordinated together in an offensive strike against the German forces, but it had been a resounding failure. The other squadron had been completely defeated—every pilot had fallen. The Rapier Squadron had lost two men.

When they'd returned, Browning, incensed, reassigned several men. The new Rapier Squadron consisted of Snap Wexley, Lieutenant Rutherford, another American volunteer pilot called Lieutenant Muran, and of course, Poe himself.

Poe was already comfortable with Wexley and Rutherford, but Muran he only knew from camp. He was a boisterous and jolly pilot, but Poe suspected that might have been the result of drink. He was a fair flyer, though, and a kind man. His red hair and light eyes reminded Poe vaguely of Hux, but his demeanor couldn't have been more different from his reserved friend.

Poe hoped that the four of them would be sufficient to carry out their planned defensive maneuver. It was a foggy day and the Germans were using the cover to attack a small base of British soldiers near the coast. Another squad had already been deployed to aid the army soldiers on the ground, but had gone radio silent a few minutes prior.

Browning chose to send Wexley and his small group of men to use the fog against the German planes and take them by surprise. The smaller group would create less noise and air traffic.

The plan was solid enough but Poe was concerned that they would be outgunned. He had woken that day with a queasy feeling deep in his belly and it hadn't let up in the hours since.

"Dameron," Wexley's commanding voice brought Poe back to attention. "I asked if you had any remarks or questions before we set out."

"No, sir," Poe replied quickly, standing up a little straighter. "Sorry," he added under his breath as Wexley turned to walk toward his plane.

Poe let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding in, shifting his flight helmet from under his arm and strapping it over his head as he made his way over to his own plane.

"Oy, Dameron," Rutherford called to him from his left. Poe turned to the blonde pilot, meeting his striking amber eyes uneasily. "You seem off today. You ready for this? There are no second chances up there." He didn't smile. It wasn't a kindly inquiry into Poe's health; it was a warning. A reminder of the stakes. Poe didn't need one, though. He was worried enough.

"I'm fine," he said simply, forcing a grin as he climbed into the cockpit and sealed it closed. He heard Wexley's plane roar to life on his right as he flipped the switches to begin readying his own craft for the air. The familiar adrenaline rush made him feel lightheaded with anticipation as the plane vibrated with the power of the engine, the propellers spinning in a blur.

Wexley began taxiing into the air first, then Rutherford, then Poe. He glanced behind him to see that Muran was following as well. "Put some pep in your step Dameron, we're going to kill Krauts, not taking a scenic pleasure cruise," Muran quipped over the comms, a smile in his voice.

Poe offered a laugh over the air to his partner but his heart wasn't in it. Something still felt wrong.

Fifteen minutes of flying passed without incident and Poe could see brief glimpses of open water in breaks in the clouds and fog below. They had taken a long way round, heading out over the sea and then doubling back to take the Germans by surprise. The enemy would expect British attacks from inland, not from the coast.

Or so they thought.

When they reached the given coordinates, the four pilots got into a v formation with Wexley at the head and prepared to descend toward the army base.

As they burst from the clouds and swooped down toward the German bombers, Poe's breath caught in his throat. There were already a dozen German planes mounting a significant attack on the base below, and the British squadron that had been sent to aid the army lied in wreckage on the beach. From what Poe could see, the Germans had only lost one fighter.

He took a deep, calming, breath and waited for Wexley's instructions.

"Dameron, Muran, you two approach from the east and drop in on them, hit the ones bombing the tanks with everything you've got. Rutherford and I will—"

Wexley's voice was lost in the sound of gunfire as two of the German planes slowly came into view behind them, Poe watching in horror through his rearview as the fighters materialized from the fog.

"Damnit! They must have had scouts on a boat out to sea that saw our approach," Wexley ground out irritably, swerving wildly out of the way as the Germans bombarded his plane with bullets.

Their aim wasn't true owing to Wexley's defensive maneuvers and the fog, and they didn't hit him. But they were close. Poe made the snap decision to ignore his orders and protect his commanding officer. He broke out of formation next to Muran, flying back upward into the clouds and doing an enormous vertical loop that landed him behind the intruding German duo.

"DAMERON!" Wexley bellowed with rage. Poe ignored him.

"That's some fancy flyin'," Muran declared with a whistle as Poe got into position, locked onto the nearest of the two German flyers, and let loose a volley of missiles, holding his breath to keep from nudging the controls too hard.

His efforts were rewarded with a direct hit, and the enemy vessel dropped out of sight after a low boom, dark smoke billowing around it.

The second plane didn't have time to react before Poe decimated it, too, with a devastating round of fire. He must have hit a fuel tank, because the plane exploded midair in a blinding display that Poe had to bear hard to the right to avoid hitting.

He exhaled in relief, almost grinning at the delighted cheers that came over the comms from his comrades. Poe noticed that over the land ahead, Muran and Rutherford were already busy dropping down on the unsuspecting Germans that had been laying waste to the army base, taking them out one by one. A couple of the Nazis had the sense to break off and try and mount a defense, but it was too late. The Rapier Squadron was too skilled, too organized, and they had the element of surprise, even with the slight upset of the duo that Poe had just dispensed with.

But suddenly he heard Wexley in his ear again, his voice different than before. He wasn't exasperated at Poe's disobedience, no. He sounded . . . desperate, frantic.

"Dameron. Oh _fuck_ , Dameron!"

Poe was about to ask what the trouble was when a gut-crunching blast shook his plane, the cockpit glass cracking, alarms going off left and right at the impact.

"What—" he began, but was silenced when his plane took another hit. This time he lost altitude rapidly, dizzyingly fast. A small fire erupted to his right and Poe cried out at the sudden and intense heat. A glance to the right through his cobweb of cockpit glass showed that half of his wing had been blown to smithereens—not good.

The plane began to nosedive and in front of him all that Poe could see was the meager reflection of the sun on the ocean as it broke through the fog. Inside the cockpit the fire slowly spread, the smoke filling the small space and choking him. Poe coughed and spluttered, trying desperately to get his bearings.

"Poe! There was a third damned Kraut up there. He must have been hiding up in the fog while you took out the others. He's still after you! Poe, do you read?!" Wexley's hail brought him slowly back to his senses and Poe answered, trying to keep the fear from his voice.

"Roger that, sir. I would initiate counter maneuvers but this plane's a goner. I'm going to exit the aircraft, now," Poe announced, checking his parachute and fumbling with the cockpit latch. The metal handle was too near the fire, though, and once he got over the searing pain of touching it, Poe realized to his horror that the latch was melted shut.

 _It's fine,_ he told himself frantically. _Just finish breaking through this damned glass and—_

A third shot hit the plane from behind, breaking off the entirety of the left wing, and sending Poe's head smashing against the controls with a jarring thud. He sat up shakily, noticed that Wexley had doubled back and was shooting down the Nazi plane responsible, but that was a small comfort.

Poe knew it was all over. Without wings the cockpit and tale were just a cylinder dropping toward the ocean at a dangerous velocity. He pulled up against the yoke in vain, trying to ignore the warm, sticky blood that he could feel gathering inside his helmet where his head had hit the now-cracked control panel.

Through the patchwork windshield he could see the water rushing up to meet him, and as the plane breached the surface and the cockpit opened in a whoosh, Poe foolishly grabbed at his photo of Rey where it had been safely tucked into the dash, but the picture floated away out of reach. Almost immediately he felt the oppressive need for air, but after one mouthful of water he gave up on the futile search for oxygen. He tried to float up, but he found that he was too disoriented to even know which direction up _was._ The crash had taken him deep into the ocean and he'd flipped end over end. He was vaguely aware that he should fight, try to swim, but the impact left his limbs feeling useless, like jelly.

He closed his eyes and saw Rey's staring back at him, her caramel-colored orbs dancing with all the desire and vivacity that he loved so dearly. As the icy sea engulfed him in its deadly embrace, he imagined Rey's arms around him instead, warm and safe, her lips on his face where the wound had been. In spite of it all he found that he was smiling as he sunk further. The pain was gone now, a distant memory. He felt weightless and warm, but eventually even the pleasant image of Rey and her smile eluded him, and everything slowly went dark.

* * *

 _ **A/N:**_ **Hey guys, sorry again for the super long hiatus. Sorry also for this ending ... don't kill me! Any and all feedback appreciated.**

 **P.S. While some of the characters are OC's, I have incorporated a few members of Poe's squad (AU versions, of course) from the Marvel comics series about him. Hope you enjoy them!**

 **I'll update again this weekend. xoxo**


	9. Never Again

_**A/N**_ **: Hi, guys. I am so, so sorry for being away so long. Here's a good depressing chapter to start off the year (hah). I just want to thank my most faithful readers and viewers, the people who keep me motivated to finish this story despite what's happening in my life. Shani8, Charmfeather, Rapier Thirteen, and draccmalfoy in particular are wonderful! Regardless of my horrendous updating times, please rest assured that this story is extremely important to me (which is partially why it takes so long-I obsess over every chapter) and I will never abandon it and WILL finish. I know how it's going to end already and everything in between. We just have to get there. Anyway, I'll shut up now :) Happy reading, my friends!**

* * *

 _Of course_ , Rey thought bitterly, scowling down at the russet-colored stain on her usually white apron. _Of all the days_ . . .

She shook her head with a sigh. It was a truly inconvenient time to have a stubborn bloodstain on her uniform. That day Phasma would be giving all of their stations monthly inspection. Rey was a very capable and dedicated nurse, but she was known to have her head in the clouds and sometimes she had . . . accidents.

But there wasn't even an exciting story behind this particular, offending stain. As usual, there hadn't really been any patients to speak of in the clinic. Rey and Nat were perfecting their sutures, practicing on fruit. It was a trick Nat said she'd learned from a friend. But Rey was having trouble. She had a feeling that real skin would be a bit more pliant than the peel of an orange. Her frustration led her to jab the suture needle with more force than was necessary, and at an odd angle. The needle had glanced off the side of the orange and slipped into the fleshy skin between her thumb and pointer finger. Rey had cried out in surprise, ripping the needle carelessly from her hand and wiping at the wound with the hem of her apron, dampening it with blood. _Stupid_.

Now it wouldn't pass inspection, Phasma would call her sloppy (again), and Jess would smile smugly at her own immaculate station. After scrubbing at the stain with a dish towel in vain, Rey threw her hands up in resignation and decided to give it up. Nat and Jess had already headed off to work, and adding insult to injury, Rey realized that she was late.

"Damnit!" she hissed, throwing the towel in the sink and grabbing her bag hastily from the kitchen table. BB barked in alarm as Rey hurried about the cottage like a bull in a china cabinet. "Sorry, BB," she called over her shoulder and she burst out the front door, her dress and apron billowing in the breeze that came off the beach. She locked the door behind her and then made her way down the front steps as quickly as her kitten heels would carry her.

When she reached the sidewalk Rey looked up at the road and then stopped in her tracks, her breath seizing up in her lungs. Her hands dropped immediately to her sides and her bag slipped slowly from her shoulder, hitting the sidewalk with a dull thud.

" _No_ ," she whispered to herself, tears filling her eyes to the brim.

There was an Air Force truck parked on the street in front of her house. Finn sat listlessly in the driver's seat; Hux and Kylo stood at the end of her drive, their hats in their hands. All three of them were in full Class A uniforms, the dark navy color a harsh contrast against the baby pink of the morning sky over Pearl Harbor behind them.

Kylo's unruly black hair was combed neatly and gelled into place for once, the polish on his shoes catching the sunlight and throwing a reflection her way in a blinding sheen. It was disorienting, casting the whole scene in a surreal, hazy light. Surely, this was a nightmare.

 _If they're here, like that, it means . . ._

She didn't finish the thought, shaking her head furiously to drive out the very idea of it. " _No_ ," she said again, louder this time, staggering a few steps. The low fence separating their yard from the sidewalk was near, and Rey meant to grab it for support. After a haphazard step forward her right heel caught in a crack in the sidewalk and she tipped forward, the ground rushing up to meet her.

But Kylo lurched toward her then, dropping to one knee to catch her. Rey collapsed against him, unable to move, to breathe, to _think_.

"H-he _can't_ be . . . " she choked out desperately, gasping for breath, grabbing fistfuls of Kylo's jacket and hiding her face against his shoulder. "Not now. Please."

"I'm sorry, Rey," he replied, his voice almost inaudible. "I'm so sorry."

Kylo's own voice shook with emotion and the sound of it, of Poe's friend feeling the same grief, made it all too immediate, too real, and Rey dissolved into frenzied sobs muffled only by the fabric of Kylo's uniform against her face.

Hux, ever the stoic, stooped to lay a hand awkwardly on Kylo's other shoulder, clearly unsure how to comfort them both. For his part, he was blinking tears from his eyes. He turned his head to check on Finn, who still stared over the steering wheel of the truck in motionless shock.

Kylo's arms were snug around Rey and at first it created a comforting barrier between her and the world but after a moment the closeness was stifling and she pushed away from him feebly, in need of air.

He released her by degrees and helped her steadily to her feet. Rey rose with him slowly, taking shuddering breaths and trying to slow her frantic sobs of a few moments before.

The sound of heels on the pavement drew her attention and she looked up to see Jess and Nat tearing down the lane in alarm, looks of horror etched into their faces. Apparently the news had broken at the clinic as well. Behind her, BB cried pitifully and scratched insistently at the screen door.

Another gust of wind blew in off the water, loosening some of Rey's hair from the braid she'd thrown together that morning. She shivered, suddenly feeling very small and utterly alone.

Kylo frowned down at her and reached out, tucking the hair back behind her ear. She looked up at his face and saw her own pain reflected back in the black depths of his eyes.

 _I'll never look into Poe's eyes again_ , she thought, and felt fresh tears well up, a painful lump rising in her throat.

It just didn't seem real. She'd woken up in a good mood, thinking happily that she might write Poe a letter, might try and draw him a picture of BB he could make fun of. She imagined him laughing at it as he sat in a tent on the other side of the world. His laugh was the dearest sound in all the world, and no one would ever hear it again. She'd never see how his smile reached all the way up to form creases at his eyes. He'd never offer her that beat up leather jacket when she was cold. Never pull her in for a hug or kiss her on the neck from behind to surprise her.

How silly it seemed to her then, on the worst day of her life, that earlier that morning she'd been upset about a stain on her apron.

* * *

"Poe's funeral. God, I still can't believe it. It's too awful." Natalie snatched the handkerchief from Finn's front jacket pocket and dabbed at her eyes, blinking furiously to dispel the tears. "I knew I shouldn't have worn mascara today," she scolded herself absently.

Finn yanked the handkerchief back from her forcefully then, his features contorted in a grimace of disgust. "Really? You're worried about _mascara_ right now?"

"I-I didn't mean-I'm sorry Finn, honest," she pleaded, grabbing at his arm. He jerked away obstinately.

"Come on, Finn," Hux said in a low voice. "Nat's not the problem here. We all miss him." He offered a reassuring smile to Nat who nodded tearfully in response before excusing herself to the bathroom.

"Thank you for doing that," Jess said quietly. Ben caught her giving Hux's hand a grateful squeeze before she moved over to Rey, patting her on the back consolingly.

Rey stood at Ben's right, fragile as glass, staring at the ground with a vacant expression in her bloodshot eyes. He hadn't seen her for days. He'd tried to go and visit after the news of Poe's death, but she'd been locked up in her room, refusing to come out, refusing even to _say_ that she wasn't coming. Jess and Nat had said that they couldn't even hear her crying. They were worried something had happened to her until she had opened the door a crack to let BB out into the hall to be fed and watered.

To get her to the funeral, the girls claimed they'd had to summon Phasma to Rey's doorway to coax her out and dress her for the occasion.

She looked the part of a grieving girlfriend well enough, her slender silhouette accented by a form-fitting black dress and matching high-heels. On her head she wore a small black hat that had a net attached at the front. Rey had it pulled down to obscure her face. The net-veil was a good choice, really—Ben had been unable to suppress a gasp of alarm when she'd met his eyes, her own as red as blood.

"It's good to see you Rey," Finn offered lamely, smiling slightly when she glanced his way.

She said nothing, turning back to face forward again. After a moment she shrugged Jess away and walked to the front of the church, taking her seat.

"What was that?" Ben asked Finn coldly. "'It's _good_ to see you?' Nothing about today is good. Don't try to make small talk. Not here."

"Oh, shove it, Kylo," Finn fired back. "We know you were his best friend but stop acting like you have some monopoly on grief. We all loved Poe. I'm just trying to make Rey feel a little better. Doing more than you're doing standing there with that look on your face."

Ben opened his mouth to protest but thought the better of it, instead heading to the altar where he would soon prepare to deliver Poe's eulogy. Truly he didn't feel up to the task, but when his Uncle Luke had asked him he'd been unable to refuse, no matter how furious he'd been that Luke was the one to send Poe away in the first place.

As he trudged up the center aisle between the pews in the church, a familiar face swam into his peripheral vision and he stopped short in surprise.

"Mom?" he asked.

Leia nodded solemnly and rose from the pew she was seated in to greet him. She looked tired, strained. Her brown hair was peppered with silver and her black dress hung off of her haggard body. Ben suddenly felt guilty for avoiding contact with his parents for so long. He didn't want to add to her worries.

"Ben," she said tenderly, reaching out to hug him. But he bristled and stepped back.

"I asked you not to call me that," he ground out through his teeth.

"Honey," she pleaded, "don't be that way. Not today."

Ben felt his face soften at his mother's kindness. He took a step back toward her when another, taller figure materialized behind her.

"Son," Han said gruffly. He had shaved for the funeral and was dressed in his old, faded military uniform. Ben was disgusted at the sight. After all that his father had done to keep _him_ out of the Air Force, all he had said about the folly of military life, here he stood still wearing the signs of his service like a badge of honor.

 _Phony. Coward_ , Ben thought viciously. There had been whispers. Whispers that when Han had been in the Great War with Poe's father, that there was a reason he had come home sooner. That his injury had not been sustained in battle but was self-inflicted, done so that he could be discharged. Long ago, Ben had asked him about these rumors. That was the first and only time his father had hit him. Ben never forgave him, and instinctively believed every nasty thing he'd ever heard about his father, about "Han Solo the scoundrel."

In the dim quiet of the church, Ben nodded politely at his father before giving him mother a quick hug. Then he brushed past them both and ascended the steps that brought him up behind the podium.

Slowly, the mourners took their seats. The lights in the church focused in on Ben and he felt suddenly very anxious. But then he looked out into the congregation and saw Rey, seated in a place of honor in the front row next to Kes Dameron, Poe's father.

His heart broke at the sight of his friend's dad. How many days had he spent, playing on the floor of Poe's living room while Kes and Poe's mother, Shara, looked on lovingly? Losing Shara had been a blow for Poe and his father. Ben couldn't imagine what the older man was facing now. Losing someone like Poe was almost too much to bear. He had so much life and love in him. To be snuffed out now . . . it just didn't make sense.

To the right of Kes, Rey wasn't crying. She sat up straight with her hands folded neatly in her lap. But she was staring up at Ben with an intensity that lent him strength. If she, Poe's lover could keep her composure at a time like this, so could he.

Clearing his throat, Ben removed his speech from his pocket and set it on the platform before him. He didn't need it—he'd memorized the speech backwards and forwards. But he had brought it just in case.

"Lieutenant Poe Dameron was my best friend," he began simply. "But he would likely have treated any of you with just as much consideration as he did me. He was just kind like that. Poe cared about people; he was friends with everybody. It was impossible _not_ to love Poe almost as soon as you met him."

 _So far, so good_ , he thought hopefully. His voice hadn't failed him yet.

"When other people were feeling bad about something, we all knew that we could rely on Poe to lift their spirits no matter who it was or what was wrong with them. I wish I had him around to comfort me right now." His voice quavered dangerously at that, at the realization that the only person who ever really got through to him was the one person he couldn't talk to out. Never again. _Pull it together_ , he told himself fiercely.

"But Poe wasn't _just_ a nice guy. There are lots of nice guys. The thing about Poe is that he had all the ingredients of a jerk. He was incredibly talented, athletic, confident, and all the girls loved him. I was always eclipsed by him, by whole life. He knew it, too. Sure, he was a little cocky. By all accounts I could have hated the guy. I didn't, though. Poe wasn't someone you hate. He was . . . too _good_. Genuinely good. You don't meet many people like that.

"I'm certainly not one. I haven't always been the easiest person to be around. But Poe was always there for me, even when I was being the worst pain. He was the best friend anyone could ever ask for.

"And he loved his family, too. His eyes used to light up all excited when he would talk about how cool his dad is, how good of a pilot he is and how fast of a runner. He was so proud of his parents. I know," Ben said in a choked voice, "that they're proud of him, too." Kes Dameron sobbed quietly from the front row, and Ben struggled to ignore it with everything he had.

"Yeah," he continued slowly, "Poe could make anyone love him almost instantly, but he didn't need the love and admiration of a bunch of people. He had a few close friends, and that was enough for him. And while he _could_ get any girl he wanted, he knew the _best_ girl when he found her. I think we're all glad Poe met Rey. What they had warmed everyone around them because it was so strong."

Ben changed a glance down at Rey, who was still gazing up at him, stock still. Tears ran down her face in dark rivulets that he could see through the faint netting.

He shook his head slightly, pressing on. "The people in Poe's life are what drove him to be such a dedicated and skilled pilot. It meant everything to him to protect others, and he was a great asset to our country. I know he saved a lot of lives with his bravery and service. I've never seen a flyer like Poe before. My uncle used to joke that to fly that well, Poe had to have the devil in him. But if anything Poe was an angel. I know that wherever he is, he doesn't regret a thing. He gave his life doing what he loved to do, what he seemed born to do. But it isn't fair that he was taken from us so soon. I miss him every day. All the time."

Ben found it almost impossible to finish. The soft weeping of several in the congregation was only adding to the swelling hole of his own grief. To his left was the empty coffin that they would bury as a formality, that they would cover in an American flag in honor of Poe's sacrifice. Yes, his best friend had been sacrificed to this senseless war.

He thought unwillingly of that day when they were kids, he and Poe playing in his dad's old biplane. Poe's smile was so bright, his laugh so carefree. Even then, when they were just kids, he'd wanted nothing more than to fly.

 _Well, Poe, you got your wish. But at what cost?_

If Ben allowed himself to think about it too long, he would crumble in front of them all. So with one final, steadying breath, he finished his eulogy.

"We are all better for knowing him. Rest in peace, my friend."

* * *

Afterward, Ben found Rey sitting on a bench alone in the garden beside the church. She was looking down at a very crinkled and stained piece of paper and sniffling loudly.

 _One of Poe's letters_ , he thought sadly.

Looking up at the sound of his approach, Rey hurriedly stashed the paper away in her handbag. She had removed the hat from earlier and he could see her face more clearly now. She looked pale, sallow, broken. He was sorry for her.

It was hard enough losing Poe, the hardest thing he'd ever gone through. Seeing Rey so defeated by his loss was making Ben feel worse, worse than he'd thought he _could_ feel. He'd come to admire the strength and light he saw in Rey through the course of their friendship. Being around her made him feel connected to Poe, made him feel less alone. She seemed to understand him better than the others in the group. He trusted her. He cared for her. So seeing her now, a mess, heartbroken—it hurt _him_ , too.

"Can I sit here?" he asked, gesturing to the bench beside her.

Rey nodded silently, refusing to meet his gaze.

He took a seat on the bench, the hard surface oddly cold for the climate. It seemed that nothing, even the glowing paradise of the island, could thaw the chill that Poe's death had settled on them all. Though she tried to conceal it, Ben could hear Rey sobbing quietly beside him. He wanted to comfort her somehow, but he didn't know what to say.

"Thank you," she blurted suddenly, her voice thick.

"Um, for what?"

"For the things you said about Poe in there. He would have liked to hear that. It would have . . . would have meant a lot to him."

"I hope I honored him," Ben replied in a whisper.

Rey scooted closer on the bench, looking up at him earnestly. "You did. I swear, you did," she insisted, her voice breaking on the last word.

She was crying again. She leaned her face against him like she had that day, when he'd broken the worst news of his life to the sweetest girl he'd ever met. Awkwardly, he shifted toward her, wrapping his other arm around her as she shook against him.

"Rey . . . " his voice trailed off uselessly. She made no response, though perhaps her sobs quieted a little.

"You know," he began, "Poe really loved you, Rey. I know that you two didn't get the time together you deserved. But he asked me to look after you if . . . if anything happened to him. And he did that because he loved you so much, more than you know. I just . . . just thought you'd want to know that."

Rey sat up, her eyes somehow even redder, her cheeks glistening in the early evening light. _Oh, no,_ Kylo thought in a panic. _Why did you say that stuff, idiot? You're just going to make her feel worse._

"I know," she replied in an impassioned voice. "He did love me. And you know what? I never got to tell him I love him, too. It's just like I told you at the beach that night. I . . . I'm such a fool. The only man I've ever loved, and he didn't even know it."

"He knew, Rey. I believe that." Ben expected her to start weeping again but she didn't. Her eyes were alight with something else—anger.

"It's just so unfair, you know? Why did this have to happen to him? He was too young. There was so much that he—that _we_ —were going to do. And now it's just . . . it's all gone. Why did he have to go and volunteer like that?" Rey took a shaky breath, turning away from him to collect herself again.

But Ben wasn't looking at her. His mind was reeling with what she'd just said. _Volunteered? VOLUNTEERED?!_

"I'm sorry," he said abruptly, standing from the bench. "Did you just say Poe volunteered? That's not right. He had orders. From Skywalker. From my uncle."

Rey stood up too and met Ben's gaze, her expression apologetic. "No, Kylo. He wanted to go. He was always trying to 'make a difference.' You know him."

Ben stared at her, utterly flabbergasted. Poe had volunteered. Poe had _chosen_ to go off to his death. To leave Rey, to leave _him_ , to . . . die. And he'd lied about it.

He wasn't angry. That wasn't really the right word. He just felt strangely betrayed, and the gulf of loss in his heart only seemed to widen in the knowledge that his closest friend hadn't trusted him enough to tell him the truth.

Rey interrupted his thoughts when she stepped forward, taking his hand in hers in a gesture of consolation. It seemed absurd, her needing to console _him._ He appreciated it nonetheless. "He just wanted to protect you, Kylo. He didn't want you trying to follow him. Always looking after others. That was his way," she said, shaking her head. "I miss him so much already."

"So do I," Ben whispered miserably.

Rey sighed—a lonely, defeated sound. Instinctively, Ben wrapped her in his arms. Looking down at her, he could detect the sweet floral aroma of her hair. The warm hazel of her eyes found his, and even in this moment of acutest pain, she tried to smile at him. He returned her smile, hoping it looked more natural than it felt; because nothing felt natural then, nothing felt right standing near where they'd just buried his best friend.

After a few moments of companionable silence, Jess appeared and collected her friend. When they'd gone, Ben sat forlornly in the deserted garden, wondering how he'd manage without Poe in his life.

It was three months before he'd smile again.

* * *

 **Any thoughts on the story are always appreciated!**


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